


K I D S

by Skaurple



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Childhood, Coming of Age, Cussing, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamic, Fantasy, Gen, Light Angst, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Slice of Life, Slow Build, This is gonna be one big UWU, Violence, but like violence during missions, injuries, ok nvm the kids hurt each other too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skaurple/pseuds/Skaurple
Summary: What does it mean to be a kid? The children of the Umbrella Academy were so busy growing up, they hadn't quite pondered on the thought. It didn't matter, anyway. "Experiencing a childhood" hadn't been on Sir Reginald's checklist.But when Five accidentally warps into their neighbours odd and whimsical house, he meets an old man who has yet to grow up.OR the kids learn what it means to be kids (Inspired by The Little Prince)





	1. Every Story has a Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids haven't received their names at this point but to avoid confusion (for both myself and you guys) I decided to use them. But during dialogue, they will refer to themselves and to the others as their given numbers. 
> 
> In other words, the narrator and reader know the children's names while the characters themselves don't, ya feel????

The Hargreeves children were turning ten today. An exciting milestone for a child yet the day remained uncelebrated and identical to the rest.

It started with the blaring of their synced alarms. Bedroom doors flew opened and, with Number Four quite literally falling behind, the children raced through the hallways towards their single bathroom. Sir Reginald insisted they share comfort stations, stating it pushed to improve their coordination skills. However, instead of a civilized single-file-line, the children tripped and pulled at each other's hair.

No matter their strategies, it was Five who would always reign victorious without a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His siblings found themselves ramming into a door they swore was just opened a second ago. The flashing blue lights piercing through the cracks indicated the bathroom was no longer occupied.

Avoiding the traffic of running down the stairs, Five warped into his designated place at the dining area with his hands placed behind his back and chin lifted. There, Sir Reginald stood at the very end of the table waiting for the rest of the academy to make their way.

Five appearing much like a loyal solider was unintentional, he was just eager to start the day. Sundays meant individual training for him and he assumed finally turning double digits meant he was allowed to explore his ability more in-depth, something their father always claimed he was not ready for.

While Sir Reginald eyed his stopwatch, Five stared at the large clock straight ahead. The second hand passed twelve and his siblings were officially late.

A minute went by and all seven children stood by there assigned seats.

All were silent as Sir Reginald clicked the dial of his stopwatch.

"Shameful." He grimaced and the children winced. "With the exception of Number Five, you all have seemed to forget the importance of efficiency. Every second delayed is a second lost in improving your abilities."

"Apologies, sir," Luther spoke. Being Number One gave him the duty to speak on behalf of his siblings. Though annoying at times, it also allowed their shoulders to ease. "We'll do better next time."

Sir Reginald's eyes slowly scanned the children. His gaze stopped at Klaus.

"It is the third time this week I find you out of uniform, Number Four."

The children's eyes remained ahead but they knew of Klaus' unusual appearance. His knee-high socks were rolled down to his ankles. They warned him for his style choices, but he was quick to dismiss them.

"Fix yourself immediately," Reginald demanded.

Klaus remained still. Impatiently, Sir Reginald tapped his cane against the floor. "Number Four, do not make me repeat myself!"

Allison jabbed her elbow into the side of Klaus' stomach and he quickly bent down to pull up his socks. Scanning the children once more, Sir Reginald nodded and the children took their seats.

They picked at their food as the boring sounds of Sir Reginald's record player became white noise.

It was forbidden to speak during meals, so the children had to silently itch for their father to acknowledge their birthday. It was only after they finished eating, and after he had given them their morning briefing he told them if there was a noticeable improvement in their performance, cake would be served by end of the day.

They were dismissed and all seven of them ran to class, already tasting the sweet chocolate icing and fluffy marshmallows against their salivating tongues.

Pogo greeted the children with a happy birthday before proceeding with a lesson in physics.

He dedicated an hour to six subjects every day, no pauses in between. However, in the past, they were each given three washroom breaks. The children quickly took advantage of these free passes and would be found hiding in their rooms. Catching on to their antics, Sir Reginald reduced their washroom breaks to once a day and Grace had to act as an escort.

With their legs twisted in knots, the children furiously wrote pages upon pages of notes from Pogo's lecture. Five, already knowledgeable on the topic in hand, was at the end of the textbook they were provided, while the others were just beginning.

Pogo then wrote incomplete math equations on the chalkboard and had the children race to complete them. Five volunteered to go against Luther and Five won.

He went against Diego. Five won, again.

He then challenged Allison. Then Klaus. Then Ben, then Vanya.

Five walked out of the classroom with his siblings staring at him with a hateful rage.

* * *

 Five was already beginning his warm-up when the rest of the academy came barging through the doors, lining themselves into their order. Sir Reginald adjusted his round monocle and nodded for then to join Five as he stretched his arms.

They had a gym in the basement which was dedicated to the more general exercises of boxing, skipping rope, weight lifting, and so on.

Often, the air would become humid and sweat would soak their cotton vests. Pogo once suggested they have Grace sew clothing separate from their usual school attire. Sir Reginald was reluctant, saying the uniform they trained in was the uniform they fought in battle with. To change what they were already familiar with would be unnecessary.

Today, the children were able to bask in the cool, autumn air, once instructed to make their way to the courtyard. Sir Reginald had the kids play sports (excluding Number Seven, who stayed by his side), believing it helped their reaction time along with their overall physical ability. Scheduled for noon was soccer and they took turns kicking the ball into the net.

Luther was up first and immediately, the ball was lost in the stormy and grey sky. Seconds later, they heard it drop in the far distance and it probably put a dent in the ground.

"Ah, pity." Sighed Klaus still looking up at the sky.

He stuffed his hand in his pocket and tossed a shiny nickel into Ben's palm. Staring at the coin, Ben grinned to himself in satisfaction. At the same time, Diego folded his arms and murmured, "Nice going, numbskull."

Luther ignored Diego and turned his head to Sir Reginald. "Sorry, Dad." Apologized Luther, coyly. "I uh, I can go get it."

Sir Reginald shook his head. "That won't be necessary. It would waste too much time."

"I'll do it." Five chimed in. "I'll be quick."

"I'm sure you will be, Number Five, but there is no need to waste your energy on something so insignificant."

Five hadn't heard the last part of Sir Reginald's sentence being as he had already warped to their neighbour's front yard. He stumbled onto the porch and it creaked with every step he took.

The house was so much more unimpressive than the academy. It was tall but asymmetrical giving it the odd illusion that it was tipping over. The wood panels were coloured a horrible, mustard yellow and faded into an even more awful pink as Five looked up.

He and his siblings would often stare out from their attic looking at the dusty-old-thing, wondering what was hidden in such a place. They've never seen the owner but Klaus claimed that there were ghosts that occasionally entered and exited the house. He dubbed them "Ginger" and "Spice" which only Allison agreed to.

Removing his gaze from the house, Five searched through the front lawn which always appeared untouched with its dry, high grass. The place could be mistaken as abandoned but the sound of a record player scratching from the backyard told Five otherwise.

Spotting the deflated soccer ball in a small hole beside the house, Five warped towards it and held it by his side. It landed beside the basement window and Five hadn't hesitated to look inside. The room was dim and not much could be seen. Although, for a split second, he could've sworn two yellow circles were staring right at him.

Perhaps he was being too imaginative. Five shrugged it off and warped back into the courtyard. It took him two tries before succeeding. He landed nearly losing his footing but his siblings were too busy to notice, as they kicked a perfectly round soccer ball to one another. Sir Reginald, however, gave Five a disapproving glare.

Afterwards, the kids were split into teams of three. On the right was Luther, Allison, and Five. And on the left; Diego, Klaus and Ben. Vanya kept score.

The game was short. Five had a funny habit of stealing the ball from both the opposing team and his own to earn a score.

Diego was on the ground failing to block the ball Five had just kicked into the net. He let out a frustrated growl. "This isn't fair! Y-Y-You're always cheating!"

Five scoffed "And you're always a sore loser. No one said we couldn't use our special abilities." He glanced over to Sir Reginald but he remained unfazed. Vanya, however, was rapidly shaking her head.

"It's unfair to us, too, Five." He turned his head when Luther spoke and Allison stood beside him with her arms crossed. Luther continued, "We're supposed to work as a team but you keep hogging the ball."

"Can you blame me?" Argued Five. "The ball ends up in space if I pass it to you, and I doubt Number Three would even be able to get a goal in, anyway."

"What's that suppose to mean?!" Allison demanded furrowing her eyebrows.

"You can't rumour a ball into a net."

She gasped. "I do more than just spread rumours, you know!"

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"A lot of things!"

"Do those things increase the chances of getting the soccer ball into the net?"

"I don't know because you never give me the ball! You never give anybody the ball!"

Looking around, Five was surrounded by staring eyes of irritation. Even Ben, usually the most polite and timid (right before Seven, of course) owned a jealous frown. An idea suddenly popped inside Five's mind that made the corner of his lip twitched.

"Let's play again, then. But this time, it'll be me against all of you."

They blinked out of their intense gaze and looked at each other with confusion. Five awaited an answer but they were all hesitant to speak.

"Fine." It was Diego who broke the silence. He stood up and dusted himself off. "Then you'll see how it feels to lose."

He didn't lose.

Flashes of blue light zig-zagged across the yard and by the end of the game, chaos unfolded. Allison was accusing Diego of purposely pushing her, Klaus was curled up on the grass, hugging his ankle which Luther had accidentally kicked, and Ben was vomiting from being hit by the soccer ball Five had just kicked into his stomach; an extremely tender spot for the Horrors that lived within.

Five, the creator of said chaos, wasn't doing so hot either. Standing was becoming labour intensive and it felt as if his skin was burning, though he would not dare to admit to such weakness.

"That is quite enough!" Sir Reginald's booming voice had the children freeze in their awkward positions. Shaking his head, he ordered them to head inside and get themselves sorted. They did so with their heads bowed and the taste of the chocolate cake was long forgotten.

* * *

 Later in the day, Five was instructed to meet Sir Reginald at the bottom of the grand stairs. When he made his way there, Diego passed him and they shoved shoulders. Five would have called him a dick if their father wasn't watching from a distance.

Like usual, Sir Reginald held his red notebook in hand and a pen in another. Five had been caught numerous times tilting his head a bit higher than usual in an attempt to sneak a peek of what exactly was being written. Seconds later, the book would be slammed closed. The abrupt sound echoing throughout the hallway.

Five blinked rapidly and Sir Reginald spoke. "Do not distract yourself with things that do not pertain to you, Number Five. Your immense curiosity only acts as a burden to your performance."

Five kept his chin up, appearing unaffected by his words. Though, he did take a few steps back and awaited further instructions.

Sir Reginald began, "There are a total of forty-five handkerchiefs scattered around the academy. All different colours, all the same, plaid pattern. Retrieve them quickly and to the best of your ability. And if that is not enough, push yourself to your true limit. During combat–"

"...There will be no time for delay. No enemy will wait to be killed." Rehearsed Five, letting out an impatient sigh. "We did this last week. And the week before that. Can't I try something else?"

Sir Reginald looked at him for a moment as if in thought and Five was naive enough to feel hopeful.

"No, you can not," was his disappointing answer. "You had only improved your timing by an underwhelming three seconds between those two weeks."

Five clenched his fist in his pocket, and he looked off to the side. "That's more than any of the others could do."

"Comparing yourself to your siblings will do nothing in your favour. Now, get yourself set. You will begin on the count of one." Sir Reginald raised his stopwatch.

Five shook his head, gritting his teeth. "But, Dad, I can do so much more!"

"Three."

"Don't you think it's about time you stop treating me like a little kid?"

"Two."

"I'm so much older now! I just don't understand why you're always underesti–"

"One"

With a click of a button, the timer began and Five rolled his eyes. Unwillingly but still with an irresistible determination fuming within, he teleported to the kitchen knowing full well that their Mom hid a handkerchief in her left sleeve.

Before heading to the sitting area, Five took the time to flick Diego's ear while he was busy scrubbing dishes.

Diego yelled and Five warped, meeting an angered Allison, gently rubbing the back of Ben.

"Hey, you forgot to apologize to Six!" She yelled as Five grabbed another handkerchief from the under the sofa they sat on.

"Not now." Five quickly warped to the boiler room and untangled the cloth from a pipe.

He then moved to the gym where Luther was weight lifting. Five found Klaus upstairs in their washroom, dipping his swelling feet in a bath of icy water. Vanya was reading a book at Grace's charging station.

By the thirty-seventh handkerchief, Five had mistakenly warped back to the kitchen instead of the greenhouse. He then found himself in Allison's room when he meant to go to Luther's. While trying to get to the laundry room, he somehow found himself outside the gates of the Academy. Trying to warp back into the mansion, he landed further down the street. A car honked at him, and he finally succeeded in teleporting himself back inside.

An excruciating headache was coming on and Five's vision was hazy but he managed to swiftly retrieve the forty-fourth handkerchief hanging on the chandelier by the main entrance. Sir Reginald stared Five down in anticipation for his next move. They both knew the last handkerchief was way up in the attic.

"Get a move on, Number Five!"

At the sound of his father's insufferable voice, Five pushed himself with all that he had left and teleported his way to the attic.

Knees scrapped, Five fell flat on to the wooden floors and clouds of dust filled the air. He barked out harsh coughs and sat himself up. The orange, sunlight shining through the yellow stained window, laid a warm blanket on Five, and he hovered his arm above his eyes. His ears were greeted with faint yet triumphant sound of trumpets and saxophones, which had travelled from downstairs.

"Shit..." Five mumbled, once realizing he was far from his intended destination.

He was, indeed, in an attic but clearly not the academy’s. Grace would never leave their bookshelves so dusty and infested with spiderwebs, nor would she be contempt with the stuffed animals that scattered the floors. And Sir Reginald's artistic taste was much tamer than the whimsical, and quite frankly, ugly painting of a forest that surrounded the walls. He would definitely reject the random placement of the flower-shaped tea table along with the dolls dressed as princes and knights that occupied the lopsided wooden stools around it.

Five balanced himself on to his feet and dusted his shorts off. He let out a sigh before attempting to warp himself back home.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, but this time with his eyes tightly closed.

Nothing happened.

Scratching his head in frustration, he pushed once more.

Still, nothing happened.

He kicked a plush bird that looked like it was mocking him.

Five turned his head, looking for a way out and spotted three doors along the walls.

Passing an opened treasure chest props and costumes spilling out, Five limped towards the door that had a cave painted on to it. He twisted the knob and flinched backwards when greeted with a single puppet just staring at him with its one-button eye.

Five shook his head and slammed it closed. He went on to the next door. From it's mostly white and blue appearance, he assumed the amateur who had painted it was going for a winter scenery. He opened it, only finding shelves of snow globes. A faded poster of a clown was peeling off the opposite side of the door.

The last door had nothing colourful on it, allowing Five's eyes to rest. However, it would not budge open.

He kicked a plush fish with a condescending smirk across the room. It hit the window that provided the attic with its only source of light.

Five walked over and lifted it open without much effort needed. Looking down, a tall, peachtree reached its branch towards him. He hopped onto it, then hopped onto another, then another, until he missed the fourth branch and he came tumbling down into a pile of leaves.

He groaned for a good two minutes before peeking his head through the leaves. When doing so, he was greeted with brown, staring eyes of a wrinkled and round face.

An old man with curly white hair covered by a straw hat, sat by an easel with his paintbrush hovering over an untouched canvas. He blinked rapidly at the sight of Five, and Five did the same.

They stared at each other in silence with only the old record player blaring out buoyant tunes.

"Sorry to interrupt." Five spoke first, pulling himself up.

Suddenly, the old man's eyes crinkled in delight. "Oh, no worries! When I see a pile of leaves, I can't help but feel tempted to jump into it, myself!"

Five squinted at him and held himself from rolling his eyes.

"Where should I exit?" Asked Five, noticing multicoloured gates surrounded them.

"The same way you entered."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible at the moment."

"Then I guess you should try the gate over there, beside the wagon."

Five tried not to roll his eyes again once seeing the poorly carved wooden horses attached to it.

"Feel free to take a peach on your way out!"

Five ignored his offer and walked back home.

He passed the familiar hole caused by the soccer ball Luther had kicked and suddenly, disappointed rained over him. Five always imagined their neighbour was some kind of supervillain with crab claws for hands or something, not some old grandpa with terrible artistic abilities.

Five limped across the road towards the academy. Sir Reginald was, unfortunately, the one who opened the door when he knocked. There, the boy stood with an irritated frown, bloodied knees, dusty clothing, and hair dirtied with leaves. 

The stopwatch still ticked in Sir Reginald's hand.

Five clenched his jaw.

He ran up the stairs to the attic where he retrieved the last handkerchief.

* * *

 Grace told Five to get some rest and avoid picking at his bandages that now covered his knees. He agreed but never actually followed her orders. Instead, Vanya found him teleporting between his bedroom and the attic.

"Um, Five." A flash of light brightened their dim and bare attic. Five disappeared for a moment then reappeared a few inches away from his original spot.

"Five I-" He disappeared again and came back in the same place.

"Five, I think–" He disappeared. Then reappeared.

"Five."

"What is it?!" He blurted, staying in his spot this time. His eyes darted at his sister who sat cross-legged by the window ledge. With her book in hand, she fiddled with the corner of the pages.

"You've been practising for a while now," Vanya said timidly.

"I can't allow what happened today repeat itself. I need to perfect my abilities."

He continued to warp back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Vanya flinched when Five suddenly appeared right in front of her. "Is there something else you want to say?" He asked.

"Well--" She paused in thought. "Remember when you got a bloody nose from jumping too many times? Kinda like what you're doing right now?"

Five shrugged. "That was so long ago."

"I still feel like it can happen again."

"I was little then."

"I think we still are."

Five looked off to the side and bit. the insides of his cheek "Well, I wish we weren't." He murmured, tone drenched in irritation. "Being little is so boring. Dad won't take us seriously and we're never allowed to go beyond what he teaches. It's bullshit."

Vanya remained silent. She glanced out the window and Five's eyes followed. The purple sky was becoming darker by the minute. The orange sun descended behind the lopsided house in front of the academy.

"Our neighbour is a hippie, by the way." Five mentioned. "He's like, a hundred-years-old and his attic smells like crayons."

Vanya raised an eyebrow at him. "No crab claws?"

Five shook his head. "It was a long-shot, anyway." He looked down at her novel. "I thought you finished that book already?"

The cover read ' _Great Expectations_ ' by Charles Dickens.

"I did, I finished it again today." Said Vanya with a shy smile. "I also helped mom bake a cake. It's not chocolate, though."

"Strawberry?"

"Banana Oatmeal." Five scrunched his nose at her answer.

"Would you like to join the others downstairs? I think they're eating." She offered but he shook his head.

"You go ahead. Maybe I'll join in a few minutes."

Bowing her head, Vanya hid her disappointed frown and nodded. When she left, Five continued warping back and forth for what seemed like hours.

He only stopped when their front-door-neighbour turned on their attic lights. It would change from blue to orange, to red to green. Only his shadows could be seen but it appeared like he was dancing. Five watched him curiously and it was perhaps, the longest he's gone without warping the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: hey siri uhhhhh how do u write dialogue for eloquently-spoken-children without making them sound like they're 80-years-old?????? thanks
> 
> anywho hope y'all enjoyed reading the first chapter. I have the rest of the story planned out, I just gotta write it.


	2. The Curious Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance for the obvious mistakes 
> 
> Enjoy!

The day after their birthday was the same as the last except the grey clouds scattered showers and no soccer balls went flying into oblivion. The children trained in archery but found it difficult to aim with their bows; all slippery from the rain. Sir Reginald was less than sympathetic, stating the weather won't change depending on the children's preference during combat.

So they left trails of mud behind as they made their way back inside.

Being as it was Luther's day of individual training, the rest of the academy was left to study. A history test was planned for tomorrow so the kids spent their time in the classroom for assistance from Pogo.

Five and Vanya moved to the corner of the classroom where they tested Ben with flashcards based on kingdoms between 505 BC and 377 BC. On the opposite corner, Diego buried his face into his textbook and mumbled to himself. Allison tapped on his shoulder.

"You're saying it wrong, Number Two. It's Upatissa Nuwara."

"U-Upatissa Nuwa-wa-wa-wa-"

From behind Allison, Klaus yawned and lifted his head. "Do I hear Two crying?"

"No!" Diego puffed his reddening cheeks and turned back to his textbook.

"NUWARA." Allison repeated slowly.

"Shut up!"

"I'm just trying to help you!"

"I don't need your st-stupid help!"

Allison rolled her eyes. "It's not stupid if I'm right."

Diego whipped back around reaching over Allison's desk, grabbing for her hair. She screamed before getting a hold of his wrist and somewhat managing to control his flailing arms. The two froze when Pogo yelled at them to settle down. They followed his orders just after glaring at each other with squinted eyes.

Klaus suddenly raised his hand. "Mister-Pogo-sir, may you be so kind as to allow me a second washroom break, pretty please?"

Pogo declined his request with a sigh and Klaus pouted.

It was Five's turn to raise his hand. "May I use the washroom?"

With a nod from Pogo, Five headed out the door, ignoring Klaus's envious scowl.

There was something that happened the other day that Five found quite intriguing; Klaus snagged several tape recorders from Sir Reginald's study room and kept them recording at different points of the night. With the help of Diego's pettiness and Vanya's musical talents, they presented Luther with a catchy remix of his deafening snores. He didn't speak to them for three days.

So Five, knowing his idiot brother managed to steal nine tape recorders without being caught, thought it to be a good idea to test his luck with Sir Reginald's red book.

He had a hunch that whatever was written in between the hardcovers was the solution to his inability to warp as long as he wanted to. Sir Reginald was just using some kind of useless teaching technique that pushed for Five figure it out himself. A waste of time, really.

And anyway, retrieving the answer now would save time, something Sir Reginald was so particular about, and Five would not be so bored.

So Five passed the hallway leading to the washroom and instead, took a turn to Sir Reginald's study room.

"Where do you think you're going, silly?"

Five stopped in his tracks and sighed at the familiar sound of his mother's voice. She stood behind him in her usual attire of a charming, bright dress Allison would always obsess over.

Perhaps it was when Five was six, he noticed Grace had a habit of staring off to the distance with a blank expression. Especially around the end of the day, when she had cooked all day.

It was when he turned seven, Five found Grace's eyes glow a bright blue and a device plugged through her forehead. He wasn't quite sure if it was comforting or terrifying to be tucked in by her from there on out.

Grace brushed her fingers through Five's tangled hair. The two of them turned into the hallway towards the washroom.

"You know, mother," Five began with false sincerity. "I've already studied all that there is to know about the Kingdom of Upatissa Nuwara, as well as the hundreds of other monarchies there are. I think I should be spending my time more wisely."

"That's wonderful to hear, sweetie," Grace acknowledged calmly. "but your father would like you and your siblings to follow his given schedule. He knows best, after all."

"On the contrary," Five challenged, voice quickened. "Overstudying causes unwanted stress and tension. We've seen it with Ben, remember?"

Grace frowned at the memory. "Yes, I do remember. He fainted before Pogo's Algebra test. Such a shame, he studied until the sun rose."

"See?" Five concurred. "You don't want me to study until I faint, do you?"

She hummed. "I suppose not. But whatever will you do for the next two hours?"

Five smirked and grabbed her hand, dragging her further into the hall.

* * *

"I want you to time me starting from the moment I leave to the moment I return." Five explained, stretching arms over his chest. The mother and son duo seemed to have ended up at the bottom of the grand stairs.

"Can you do that for me, mom?" He asked, glancing up at her.

She was tilting her head, focusing on Five's crooked tie. She crouched down and adjusted his attire before allowing her red lips to form a smirk.

"Sounds simple enough!"

Five grinned back at her before getting into a runner's stance. Counting down to one in his head, he teleported to a different room.

Apparently, during their archery training, Five had Vanya hide fifty of her books in different areas of the academy (excluding the gym, assuming that's where Sir Reginald and Luther were).

Handkerchiefs were easier to carry, Five now realized. He dropped off the books in his bedroom before retrieving another which meant he had to warp double the amount. Vanya was also oddly good at hiding things. It allowed for a real challenge, anyway.

That's all he wanted, a challenge.

No more child safety lock. No more restraints.

He wasn't a child.

He didn't need naps.

He didn't need help with assignments.

He didn't beg for cake.

He wasn't a sore loser.

So limited. So childish were his siblings.

Five was anything but a child. So why should he act like such?

By the forty-ninth book, Five had gained a few paper cuts and a headache that pounded at the same speed of his rapid heartbeat. When coughing, the taste of blood greeted his tastebuds and he cringed when the sweat from his upper lip rolled down onto his tongue.

He barely stood, landing near the entrance but giving up was not an option he allowed himself. He wasn't going cry about it. He'll handle the pain.

Purposely, he left the last book hidden in the attic.

He gulped down his saliva and shut his eyes tight, picturing the attic perfectly in his clustered mind.

Adrenaline rushing through his bloodstreams, he let out an ear-piercing-cry before warping through.

His skin felt as if it was being dragged against a rug. A loud ringing was all he could hear. His sight was blinded with a bright light. And...

 

**_THUMP_ **

 

He slams into a wall.

 

**_THUD_ **

 

His head hits the ground.

 

_"Shit..."_

 

Everything goes black.

* * *

There's something cold on his forehead. It is soaked with icy water and he shivered when it ran down his neck.

His eyes opened wide and he suddenly found himself staring at miniature clouds and colourful-feathered birds spinning above him. A mesmerizing scene quickly ruined once noticing the strings attached to the toys. The ceiling fan spun around slowly.

Thunder had struck and Five froze clenching on to a pillow. Heart quickening, he sat up and the towel that was placed on his head fell on to his lap. The mirror in front of him, although distorted and wavy, allowed him to see his dishevelled state of his uniform. In his right nostril, a tissue covered in blood. He pulled it out and he really wished he hadn't now being able to smell the aggressive odour of something burning.

From a near distance, he heard the familiar sound of a record player playing jazz music.

"You took quite the spill there, little man."

Five tried not to flinch at the sudden vocals but it did manage to get his shoulders tense. His head whipped around sharply seeing their hippie neighbour slowly walk down the stair. The old man held tightly to the railing and only let go once on the carpet floor. His hands were kept behind his back and his eyes crinkled when smiling.

Five hesitated to speak and pushed himself further into the sofa. He glanced around, spotting a bat in the corner he could easily run to and use.

"You know," The old man continued, slowly making his way towards the kitchen located right behind the sofa Five sat. "You don't have to sneak into my attic If you're wanting to jump into the pile of leaves so badly. Or, if you're too shy to ask, you can always bring the leaves to your own yard and make your own pile."

At the old man's nonsensical logic, Five squinted at him.

"I wasn't trying to jump into the pile of leaves." Said Five, voice croaky.

"If you weren't trying to do so, what were you doing in my attic?" Asked the old man. Not angered, just curious.

Five thought back for a moment. The last he remembered, he found one of Vanya's book under the kitchen sink. "Spatial Jumps can be unpredictable at times." Was his answer.

The old man lifted an eyebrow in confusion and Five continued with an eye roll, "Spatial jumps and jumping are two separate things."

"How is that when they both have the word 'jump' in them?" Questioned the old man.

"It doesn't matter if they share the same word, they're two separate things." Five repeated.

"Hm." The old man opened his oven and steam burst through. He fanned it away before revealing a pan of round charcoal covered in brownish icing. He placed it on the kitchen table. "I'm still not quite sure I fully understand."

"Of course you don't."

The old man gave a sympathetic grin and shrugged. He gestured to the table. "Cinnamon roll?"

Oh. So that's what they are. Five winced.

"No, thanks... I see you have coffee over there."

The old man turned, glancing at the pot beside the sink. "I'm not sure you should be drinking coffee at your age."

"I can handle it."

"If you insist."

He poured Five half a cup of coffee before adding half a cup of milk. Five, having to move to the kitchen table, drank it without questioning it. From the window they sat beside, the light rainfall from this morning had progressed into the rumbling of angered lightning. It was impossible to see anything but the aggressive spikes of rainfall.

Averting his gaze, Five stared at the darkened cinnamon rolls. He took one and began to hit it on the table lightly. It's sturdiness proved to be another potential weapon for Five if needed.

"Can't be great at everything." Said the old man and Five glanced up from his mug. He was seated in front of Five and, in his hand, a pencil crayon sketching something on stained paper. Words in cursive were written throughout the page. "My daughter was always the cook, anyway."

"You mean baker. Not cook." Five stated and the old man raised his eyebrow once again. Five added on, "You can't cook a cake."

The old man paused in thought and scratched his frizzy beard before letting out a chuckle. "Yes, you'd be right about that. Shouldn't you be in school?"

"I don't go to school."

The old man tilted his head. "But you're wearing a uniform?"

Five straightened his back and pointed at his crest on his blazer proudly. "I'm apart of The Umbrella Academy. Ever heard of us?"

"Can't say I have."

"We keep the city safe from vigilantes."

"That sounds very fun."

Five nodded proudly. "It is."

"You've got a name?"

"Number Five."

"Your name is Number Five?" The old man asked slowly and Five nodded again. Squinting his eyes, still with uncertainty, the old man went on, "Do you go by Number or Five?"

"Five." He answered.

"Very well." The old man focused back on his sketch.

He scrambled through the small basket beside him and he took out a brown crayon. On paper there appeared to be a young boy with a crooked crown kept on his brown hair. In his possession; a sad owl stuck a cage made out of wooden sticks.

"He's a prince you, know." Mentioned the old man who had caught Five staring at his drawing.

Despite it, Five's eyes remained still on the drawing. A slight confusion washed over him. "I can't say I'm familiar with his appearance. What kingdom does he come from?"

The old man tapped the crayon on his chins "I haven't thought about it, actually. Maybe you can help me think of a name?"

"Well," Five lifted the mug to his lips, taking a swig before speaking. "We've just learned about the Kingdom of Upatissa Nuwara. Though, you may want to fix the proportions of the castle and the environment in general for it to be an accurate depiction of its time period."

The old man waved his hands. "No, I meant you should just make the name up. Create something new. Something simple. Got anything in mind?"

When the old man awaited an answer, Five dropped his gaze into his coffee, now just noticing the rather light colour of his black coffee. He remained silent and for once, without an answer.

"You know what," Said the old man with a soft smile. "I think I got something."

On the very top of the page, he wrote in orange cursive, _Something Simple Kingdom_. Five smirked at that.

"Would you like to hear more about the prince?" Asked the old man, returning the cover into his marker.

Five parted his lips but quickly closed it, unsure of how to respond. He looked out the window now able to see through the aggressive raindrops. It slowly subsided there on out.

He shrugged. "I should be heading home. It's around dinner, I believe."

The old man turned his head and eyes the ancient cuckoo clock mounted on the kitchen wall.

"So it is." He looked down at his drawing for a second before extending it towards Five. "Would you be so kind as to read it? My English is not the greatest and you seem like a smart kid. Maybe you can edit it? Improve it and such? Or simply read it for fun at home and tell me what you think?"

Five eyed the crumpled paper with folded arms. "Thanks, but I doubt I'll have time."

"Take it anyway. I'm sure you'll get to it eventually."

"I won't," Five insisted but paused for a moment in thought. He bit the corner of his lip before grabbing it out of his hands. "But my sister has been rereading the same fifty books, perhaps she'll enjoy this. What's it about?"

"It's about a prince."

Five rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I got that."

"And he's on a quest." Continued the old man.

"A quest for what?"

The old man grinned at his curiosity. "Why, a quest to grow up!"

* * *

Five was greeted with Grace informing him that it has been approximately one hour, thirty-two-minutes, and fifty-six seconds since he had left his place at the grand stairs. A bit guilty, he thanked her for counting for the whole duration he was gone. She removed a strand of hair found on his shoulder and invited him to the dining table.

At dinner, Diego pinched his nose in an attempt to block out the aggressive stench of smoke coming from Five. When asked what he had been up to, Five crossed his arms over his breast pocket where the tethered paper was kept, and responded with a "none of your business". They were shushed by Sir Reginald's thereafter.

The children tried not to stare as Luther struggling to pick up his fork and knife. His bruised knuckles and veiny arms gave the indication his training went as well as it always did. He gave up eating when trying to hold his glass of green juice, only to for it to slip through his shaky grasp and spill on his lap.

Five and Luther would later run upstairs and fight for the shower.

* * *

Grace accompanied the children as they gathered by their father's study room to say their goodnights. Seated by his desk, he refused looked up from his work but that was usual. Grace's warm kisses before bed made up for it, anyway.

She made her rounds, starting with Number One. He was always the first to fall asleep and his siblings had to hold pillows against their ears as his thunderous snores roamed the hallways. But tonight, his lower back ached with excruciating pain, making it impossible to get some shut-eye. Grace sat by his side for a while, pressing a heat pack on the reddening area.

She went on to Number Two who was seated cross-legged on his bed, spinning one of his knives. He proudly displayed a trick he had been practising since forever and Grace applauded him with a smile. Diego gave her a goodnight hug before she tucked him into his blanket.

Grace found Number Three crouching on the floor next to her bed. Allison quickly hopped on to bed once noticing her mother by the door. When asked what Allison was up to, she answered saying she thought she lost her teddy bear but realized it was right beside her. Though suspicious, Grace gave her the benefit of the doubt and left her with a kiss on her forehead.

Number Four liked it when Grace sung to him. It kept his mind off the decapitated henchman seated below his closest. Grace grazed her hand through his hair until his eyes closed shut. She stayed for a few more minutes to make sure he wasn't fidgeting too much. Once he was snoring, Grace left the door cracked open, allowing a bit of light to spill in.

Five was rummaging through his laundry basket and took out the blazer he wore today. Slipping his hand inside, he retrieved the story given by the old man and looked towards his trash bin across the room. The rattling of his doorknob had him quickly warp under his bedsheets. He forced his eyes shut and Grace laid a kiss on his forehead.

Grace entered Number Six's room seeing he was hidden under his blanket with only his eyes peeping out. His fear of monsters, despite owning a few of his own, seemed to only worsen as time went by. Klaus didn't help as he was often found in odd costumes and top hats, chasing poor Ben around the hallways. Grace kept by Ben's side until he dozed off.

The final room was Number Seven. She had already tucked herself in but she remained awake, waiting for her mother's visit. It was always nice to talk about her day with Grace, no matter it being uneventful and common to the last. Vanya paused mid-sentence seeing blue in Grace's eyes fading. She faked a yawn and allowed Grace to rest herself.

When the lights turned off, Vanya stared up at her ceiling. Her eyelids flickered closed to the chirping of the crickets.

Five warped by the foot of her bed and Vanya jolted up at the sound. He directed his flashlight towards her face and she squinted.

"I got you something to read." Said Five, ignoring Vanya's frazzled state. "Here."

Hesitantly, Vanya crawled out of her blanket and reached for the crumpled paper in Five's hand. She looked at the front and back. "It's a page long."

Five shrugged. "It's new, at least."

"It does look quite unique. Where did you find it?" Asked Vanya, tilting her head.

"The our hippie neighbour gave it to me."

"You visited again?"

Five nodded. "Turns out he can't paint OR bake. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't write as well."

She looked back down at the page, scanning the cursive letters. "Have you read it yourself?"

"With what time?"

"It's a page long," Vanya repeated in a deadpanned manner.

Five bit the inside of his cheek. Curiosity kills, their father always said. But then again, he was wrong about a lot of things.

"Alright, fine. Scoot over." Five said after a brief pause.

Vanya moved back to her spot under the covers. Five filled the space beside her and tucked himself in.

"Who's reading this time?" He asked, pointing the flashlight at the paper.

"I don't mind." She cleared her throat before beginning, "Once upon a time –"

Five groaned and rolled his eyes. "Typical."

Vanya chuckled, not quite disagreeing. She went on,

"Once upon a time, there lived a prince. A curious prince indeed...."

 

*****

*****

*****

 

_He lived in a giant castle surrounded by flourishing flowers and trees. He played around in the garden where he would bounce on giant mushrooms, with his pet owl who flew by his side as his friend and companion._

_The kingdom of Something Simple was ruled by The Moon King._

_He was called the Moon King because his head was shaped like half a moon, and Toenail King didn't have that much of a ring to it. He also kept a golden staff with him that controlled day and night._

_The Moon King had a plan to pass the crown to his son._

_But the Curious Prince believed he was destined for bigger things. Greater things. He wanted to be a knight in shining armour, but his father would not allow him such a title._

_"You, a knight?! How foolish!" Laughed The Moon King with a booming laugh heard from miles away._

_The Moon King liked to stroke his long and grey beard. It reached the floor and the Curious Prince was careful not to stop on it. If one did, one would be sent to the slums where one would only be fed green beans._

_"You must prove to me you are not a child! Maybe then I will consider." Said the Moon King._

_Although the Curious Prince was upset by the King's unkind words, he was determined to grow up._

_It was one fateful day, the kingdom of Something Simple was attacked by witches overnight. When the villagers had awoken, the sky was still dark and they all have found they had lost something near-and-dear to them._

_"Oh dear! My roses have disappeared!"_

_"Where ever has my top hat gone?!_

_"Has anyone seen my candlesticks?!"_

_No matter where they looked roses, top hats, and candlesticks were nowhere to be found._

_For the Curious Prince, it was his keys to his Owls stick cage. She was kept in the cramped space during bedtime but now she would have to deal with it for longer._

_For the Moon King, it was his golden staff. Without it, the sun had disappeared and the Moon was slowly turning a brilliant and bright orange._

_The Curious Prince made his decision; he would go on a quest to find the lost items._

_The witches lived in a cave far from the kingdom. He thought to check there first._

_"Be careful, Curious Prince." Warned the Caged Owl. "Who knows what's in those dark forests? If you go alone you may never return."_

_Though confident in himself, the Curious Prince found truth in her words._

_"Then I will bring you." He decided. "Come with me and you will guide me through the dark forest."_

_The Caged Owl agreed. Holding her in his hand, he left the giant castle and began his journey._

*****

*****

*****

 

When Vanya was finished, she stared at the page in both awe and confusion. Five was the same as he frantically ripped the page out of her hand and flipped it to the other side urgently. It was blank and they were left with nothing more.


	3. The Hopeful Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thanks to those who are reading! This is really fun to write! 
> 
> And apologies again for any mistakes

The Umbrella Academy was called to action on Tuesday morning in the middle of their History test. Thank God for that.

Showing off their extraordinary abilities to the world was always exciting. Thrilling it was to simply step outside the gates of the academy. Their favourite excursions were when they flew out of the city. Though they had little time to tour, the children will always remember the spectacular sight of falling down the Eiffel tower and the beauty of nearly drowning in the wondrous Niagara Falls.

Today they stayed within the city. It was another bank robbery downtown with twenty-three hostages and eight-armed culprits. Three of the culprits had already made their getaway in a stolen public transportation bus.

Child's play, really.

Within minutes, the academy managed to knock out four culprits in the bank. Courtesy of Luther, a masked man went flying through the glass ceiling. The masked man ended up crashing through the roof of the getaway bus where his limp body was met with Allison and Five.

"Would you put that shitty thing down and rumour these dumbass'?!"

Allison, a flashy magazine in hand, lifted her eyes off the fabulous image of Ginger Spice and darted them towards her brother's squeaky voice. In the driver's seat of the bus, Five was surrounded by three other masked individuals grabbing at the wheel.

With his frantic demands, Allison tossed the magazine and ran towards him. She drop-kicked one of the culprits and took the pistol out of their possession. Without flinching, Allison put a bullet in both of the remaining masked individuals.

She winced when dots of blood splattered on to her face. At least she wasn't Ben; always coming out of missions appearing like he had a bucket of red paint poured on to him.

Allison spun the gun around her fingers and turned to Five, giving him a smug smirk.

"It would've been easier to rumour them." Muttered Five.

She shrugged. "Can't rumour a bullet."

Five rolled his eyes. He steered the wheel while Allison squatted down to press the pedals and the two made their way back to the bank.

Allison would later sneak the magazine into her coat to read at home. Though she would also have to find more space to store it, the space under her bed was getting rather crowded.

When all was settled the children shuffled into their limo to avoid the aggressive flashing of cameras and news reporters pleading for questions to be answered. They basked in the attention but only Diego was grateful for the lack of QNA; he hadn't the time to practice speaking with Grace lately.

The academy drove off and still with adrenaline pumping through their veins, the children chanted for ice cream. They hopped up and down in their seats when Sir Reginald whispered to the driver and they found they were heading towards the ice cream parlour. They deflated back in their seats when Sir Reginald used the ATM beside it instead.

* * *

The children arrived home and were surprised to see chains with about twenty locks zig-zagged across their bedroom doors. Somehow Sir Reginald ended up at the end of the hall with his stopwatch in hand. Without warning or explanation, he began the timer.

Frantically, the children ran around for supplies to pick their locks.

Surprise tests were not uncommon but still incredibly intense. Sir Reginald's cold stare given when disappointing him was not the worst punishment they were given, but it still made their spine crawl with chilling shivers.

Diego was the first to get his door open being as he kept knifes with him at all time, then Luther who resorted to just pulling the locks off, then Five after complaining about how he could just warp inside his room and be done with it, then Klaus being as he broke into almost all rooms in the academy, then Ben who's sweaty and nervous hands kept dropping his tension rake.

All that was left was Allison who was still on her tenth lock. The rest of the children gathered their class supplies and left her with Sir Reginald.

* * *

Despite their interruption earlier in the morning, Pogo had not thought to postpone their history test. It was about five pages long and the children slammed their heads on the table repeatedly in an attempt to get their brains to remember what they studied the night before.

Five and Luther finished writing their tests before anyone else. They sat in the back corner to avoid Klaus' pleads for help.

There, Luther did his Astronomy homework; a subject he found a genuine interest in. The attic was normally reserved for staring at their neighbour's lopsided house, but Luther liked to admire the night stars above.

"It's not possible for the Moon to slowly turn orange, is it?"

At Five's question, Luther looked up from his textbook and panned over to him slowly.

"Orange?" Luther repeated.

He nodded his head and Luther blinked wildly. Rare was it for the prideful and stubborn Five to ask a question.

"I mean," Luther looked up in thought and twirled his pencil between his fingers. "It may appear orange, or red even when seen low in the sky but that's all just an illusion. When the sun and moon are closer to the horizon, light tends to travel through the atmosphere to get to us, thus giving it a unique hue."

Five squinted and turned away from Luther. "I already knew that."

"Then why ask?"

"Double checking."

Luther squinted back at him before returning to his textbook.

* * *

A sulking Allison joined Vanya in the attic where she sat by the window ledge.

"Bobby pins suck." Allison sighed and even without context, Vanya nodded in understanding.

They sat beside each other in an unfamiliar silence. Allison usually carried the conversation; whether it be the endless rants of their annoying brothers or the blabbering of the hot gossip and dazzling fashion showcased in her magazines. She sometimes found travel catalogues where she would point out where she would like to travel someday when they grow up. Vanya had not much to say or opinions to share, but her company was always comforting.

But today, Allison seemed distracted looking out the window.

The familiar jingle of an ice cream truck slowly fading in. Despite the cool weather, hyper children ran towards the ice cream truck parked by the academy's front gates.

"I wonder what the green ice cream tastes like?" Mused Allison.

"Peppermint, maybe?" Guessed Vanya.

Allison closed her eyes, just imagining the icy taste. "Mmmm... That sounds delightful."

Down below, a little girl perhaps a bit younger than them in a puffy sweater and ripped jeans received a multicoloured popsicle. She skipped towards her orange bicycle and rode away, playfully ringing her bell at a few bystanders.

"Do you think dad would allow us out?" Allison suddenly asked.

"For ice cream? I don't think so. He says it's too sugary."

Allison's eyes still followed the little girl as she disappeared down the street. "Do you think he'll ever let us out?"

Vanya had not the chance to answer as Ben came barging in, cheeks rosy and eyes watering. Whimpering, he squeezed himself between Allison and Vanya. Following behind was Klaus, holding tongs in each of his hands.

"FEAR ME, FOR I AM THE CRAB-KING!" Klaus exclaimed, letting out a manic laughter. He pointed at Ben with one of his tongs. "No cheeks will go unpinched! And I'm not just talking about the ones on your face!"

Vanya wheezed when Ben hugged her tightly. "Our neighbour is not a crab! Stop being weird!" He cried weakly.

"Not until these pinchers get what they want! Now, c' mere— AH!"

Five, popping out of now where pushed Klaus from behind and he landed on his face.

Five made eye contact with the frazzled Ben. "Owls can't speak, can they?"

At Five's question, the whole room but Vanya scrunched their faces in confusion.

"Huh?" Klaus murmured, turning on to his back.

"I wasn't talking to you." Said Five still looking at Ben.

Ben shrugged in response, even more dumbfounded than before. "I-I don't know?"

"What do you mean you don't know? You like animals, don't you?"

"Doesn't mean I know if they can speak."

"Yeah," Klaus chimed in. "Just because Number Two likes knives, doesn't mean he knows if they can speak– OW!"

Five had kicked Klaus's leg. "I said I wasn't talking to you."

Ben, in thought, budded back in, "I mean, Pogo can talk–"

Five winced, Allison gasped, Klaus sat up, while Vanya's eyes widened.

Ben frantically waved his hands around. "Wait, that's not what I meant–"

"Pogo's not an ANIMAAAL!" Screamed Klaus.

"I didn't mean–"

"Why would you even say that?!" Allison blurted.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't –"

"Pogo's family..." Said Vanya, heart aching.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry–"

"NO, YOU'RE NOOOT!" Klaus screeched. "I'm telling Pogo!"

Klaus bolted out the door with his tongs in hand.

"Wait, no!" Red in the face, Ben's lips quivered and he let out a panicked cry with tears flowing down his cheeks. He chased Klaus and a sympathetic Vanya followed behind, leaving Allison and Five by themselves. They shared a look, silently debating whether or not to follow them. They decided against it.

Allison looked back out the window. The ice cream truck had disappeared. The tall and lopsided house with the bright and ugly colours cast a shadow on the smaller house beside it. A bird's nest rested on the very top, probably getting the best view. The front yard remained untouched, but a newly potted sunflower now stood beside the entrance. Allison tilted to her head in wonder.

"Hey, you don't actually think he has crab claws, right?" Asked Allison.

When there was no response, she turned her head. Five was gone. She looked back outside seeing a flash of light brighten their neighbour's attic.

* * *

Five dusted himself off when landing on his face once again in the olds man attic. He really needed to work on that.

From the window he glared down seeing his neighbour back in his painting spot; this time his blank canvas was filled with all sorts of distracting forms and colours. His record player still filled the air, but this time it was a different tune. Along with the triumph instrumentals, powerful yet soothing vocals now accompanied the track. The lyrics were pretty cheesy; something about a girl _being lovely_ and _being made of love_ – which doesn't make sense at all, but still, the beat was entrancing.

Five stopped the bobbing of his head and returned his focus on his main objective.

He teleported behind the canvas and the old man flinched, clenching his chest dramatically. "Geez, Louise!"

Five spoke quickly, "Your story needs some serious retouching, nothing makes sense! I checked with my sources and I can confirm, the moon can not turn orange nor do owls have the ability to speak."

"Oh-"

"Unless, the owl was man-made but I doubt people in the renaissance era had such advanced technology, or technology at all. And the witches; they simply passed the guards and pillaged the kingdom without a scratch? The Moon King needs to do some serious rehiring if he wants his village to last at least a few months."

"Right, but-"

"There's also the giant mushrooms that the villagers jump on which completely goes against physics and really just science in general. I see you grow your own crops, your own trees and such, so I would only assume you would the basics of Botany science."

"If I may just-"

"Getting back to my original concern; the orange moon and the talking owl. Scrap it. Just scrap those two aspects. That, and the period of time the story takes place. Perhaps you could adjust it to be more in the future? The 2000s would be a good decade. That way it'll make at least some sense to have such a staff that controls night and day, and perhaps even a talking owl."

Five had finally shut his mouth but the old man was hesitant to speak. He cleared his throat after a brief pause.

"...Have you said your piece?"

"No," Five admitted, taking out the page from his breast pocket. He unfolded it and his eyes scanned over it with his lips pursed to the side. "I definitely have more critiques."

The old man couldn't help but let out a chuckle and Five furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He kept his confidence stance from faltering.

"I'm glad you did your research, little man, but it's all just pretend." Explained the old man and Five squinted his eyes. "Nothing has to make sense, as long as you're enjoying the story. Tell me, did you still enjoy reading it?"

Five looked off to the side and shrugged. "It was short."

"Meaning you're curious for what's to come next."

Five tapped his foot, unable to admit the old man to be right.

"My dad says curiosity will be the death of me." He mentioned after a brief pause.

The man blinked rapidly. "Your dad said that?"

"I'm paraphrasing."

Lowering his paintbrush drenched in orange paint, the old man's soft smile had turned weak. "I think curiosity is one of the best gifts given to a child." He said, a fond look in his eyes. "It'll take you a long way, just like the Curious Prince. I'd be happy to tell you what happens next if you'd be willing to hear it?"

Five quirked his eyebrow. "Hear it?"

The old man nodded. "I adore giving the characters voices. They're no good but I think I'd like to practice them a bit more."

Shielding his eyes, Five glanced up at the sky seeing a cloud slowly block the lowering sun.

"I guess I have time to help you with that." He stuffed his hands back in his pocket. "Dad has us do vocal exercises for when we do interviews after missions."

"Perfect."

Placed beside the old man was a thick book covered in coffee stains. He opened it and pages scattered the ground. Awkwardly he stumbled to catch them but Five was quick to help pile them back up and place them back in the book. The old gave an embarrassed smile before shuffling through the pages and finding the right one.

On it, The Curious Prince was now drawn in a forest with his Caged Owl approaching a statue.

"Now I may have to warn you," The old man lifted his glasses onto the bridge if his nose. "It's as nonsensical as the first page but I think that's the charm of it; To imagine a world without sense while it still being a story you're willing to follow..."

 

  
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***

 

  
_The Curious Prince and the Caged Owl made their way through the dark forest with nobody but themselves to keep each other company._

_Being as it was night, the Caged Owl leads the way with her yellow glowing eyes. The Curious Prince was grateful to have her, and she was grateful to have him._

_They stumbled upon a rock path covered in orange pebbles and it led them to a single statue surrounded by trees lined up perfectly to create a circle._

_The statue was all stone. It appeared to be a little knight in shining armour and frozen yet flowing curly hair. She struggled to hold the large and diamond sword in her tiny hands. On the swords handle, it misses its pendant._

_"You say the dark forests are dangerous, Caged Owl." Said the Curious Prince, quite fond of the diamond sword. "This weapon will protect me."_

_"It is not wise to steal what is not yours, Curious Prince. This sword belongs to the knight, no matter if she is stone." Said the Caged Owl._

_Despite her words, the Curious Prince gave in to his temptation and pulled on the diamond sword._

_But no matter his best efforts, it would not budge. And it seemed with every pull, the statues grip would just get tighter._

_"How odd," Said the Curious Prince with a wondering finger to his chin. "It's as if she knows I'm trying to take her what is hers."_

_The Curious Prince tried again. He pulled harder but the statue would just pull back. He loosened his grip and stared at the stone knight's eyes._

_Perhaps the dark forest was fooling with his vision, but it appeared that the stone statue had blinked twice at him._

_But the dark forest had not effected his ears when the stone knight opened her mouth and spoke —_

 

  
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***

 

  
"Quite the lovely garden, Mister! Can I come in?"

Five, now seated on the grass, whipped his head around at the familiar tone of his sister's obnoxious voice. There stood Allison by the gates, rocking back and forth with her hands behind her back. An innocent and wide smile that had her teeth shimmering in the sunlight was plastered across her rosy cheeks and Five had the urge to smack it off.

The old man's hazel brown eyes lit up. "Why, hello—"

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Yelled Five abruptly.

"I should be asking you the same thing." She sneered back, crossing her arms.

"This doesn't concern you. Go back home."

Allison stomped her foot. "That's so unfair! Why do you get to go outside and I don't?!"

"You don't understand," He spoke through clenched teeth. "Dad and Mom and Pogo will definitely notice that the two of us are gone then both our butts are kicked!"

"I think we should be fine. Dad is training Number Two, Pogo is dealing with three cry babies, and mom is mom."

"And who you might be?" The old man asked with his eyes on Allison.

"Number Three, Mister." She answered with a charming smile. "May I sit?"

"Of course!" The old man nodded. "But if your parents are needing you to go home, I think it's best to listen to them."

"They won't mind us staying awhile." Lied Allison, skipping towards the spot next to Five. She sat with her legs tucked under her and glanced at the old man's hands with an eyebrow raised. No crab claws.

"So, you're apart of this uhh – Umbrella Academy? Was that what it was called?"

Allison nodded, returning eye contact. Five slapped her hair away when it ruffled his face. "You'd be correct, Mister."

"Must be fun saving the world and all. Do you enjoy it?"

Allison shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I guess. We get to go to different countries, but I'd love to explore the world without being a mission. Father is strict, though. I think he thinks we're too young."

"Oh but there are still so many things you can do when you're young." Said the old man, voice filled with hope.

Despite their annoyance with one another, Allison and Five shared a knowing look.

"Traveling the world isn't one of them. We can't even leave the house." She murmured.

 

 

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***

 

  
_"What do you think you're doing?!" Bellowed the Stone Knight, nose scrunched and forehead creased with her eyebrows furrowed._

_The Curious Prince jumped back and the Caged Owl let out a hoot. The Stone Knight hopped off her rock and dragged her sword along with her. In a confident stance, she placed her hand on her hip and straightened her posture._

_A baffling image, indeed. How was it that the statue was moving at all? And who was the bloke who knighted a little girl who could barely carry her weapon?_

_The Curious Prince demanded an answer. "How do you speak and move when you were just a frozen statue seconds ago?!"_

_"I am a statue but I am not frozen. The witches failed on that part." Said the Stone Knight with a tired sigh. "They stole my ruby pendant, you see? The Ruby of Hope. Without it, I've turned to stone and now I am rigid and my feet are heavy when I try to pick them up. Though I can breathe just fine, I still find myself stuck in place."_

_The Curious Prince frowned. The Stone Knight appeared so sad and without purpose._

_"Perhaps I could help you?" Offered the Curious Prince. "Me and my Caged Owl are on a quest to the caves where the witches stay. We are going to bring back what they have stolen from us and restore peace."_

_"A little boy like you with just a caged owl will need some help, I assume." Said the Stone Knight. "It would be an honour to join you on your journey and fight those who dare cross us."_

_"My intention is not to insult you but with your legs heavy as is your sword, I see no way in getting to the witches cave before the Moon turns orange."_

_The Moon was still shining yellow but the orange hue was making its way to the middle. Slow is was but still worrisome to the Curious Prince, desperate to prove he is a grown boy._

_"That is true," Admitted the Stone Knight. "But I have a friend hiding in the forest that may be able to help."_

_The Stone Knight looked off into the distance where it darkened the further you travelled. She whistled with her fingers and the tune boomed throughout the dark forest._

_Past the trickling waterfall and past the lodge houses, pairs of glowing eyes hovered beside one another._

_The sound of pattering feet became louder and louder as the eyes approached. Emerging from the darkness was a large and fuzzy grizzle bear, saddled and ready to be ridden._

_The Stone Knight hopped onto the tame bear and held her gloved hand out._

_"Do not be frightened, this is my friend. We will ride her to the cave and my Ruby of Hope will be found."_

_"And my owl's Key to Freedom." Added the Curious Prince._

_The Curious Prince grabbed on to the Stone Knights hand and hugged her waist tightly as they ventured off to the witches cave._

 

  **  
*** **  
*** **  
***

 

   
Five and Allison were greeted with the glare of disappointment from Sir Reginald's opening the front door. There, the kids stood with their hands behind their backs, hiding the first two pages of the old man's odd fairytale. 

Asking them where they have been but not giving them the chance to answer, Sir Reginald's demanded they recite the entirety of the American Constitution repeatedly whilst doing an extra four hours of training in the gym to make up for the time they wasted. Five thought to mention they've only been gone for two hours, but the too familiar cane in Sir Reginald's held him back from doing so. He instead whispered harsh words to Allison to remind her every five minutes that she was the reason they got caught.

Pogo was given a stern talk as well but ultimately the blame was put on Grace for not doing an efficient enough job of keeping track of where the children were at all times. Times like these, Sir Reginald would yell at Grace but that had not done much. She was more so an outlet of all his pent up rage that was not really pent up to begin with. It seemed to irritate him even more when repeating the phrase; "useless android" and finding out it was not some kind of command he installed in Grace to make her software more advanced.

Five and Allison came out of the gym with dry throats and uniforms drenched in heavy sweat. It was late in the evening and their stomach rumbled from their skipped dinner. They thought to sneak over to the kitchen but found themselves being watched intensely by Sir Reginald's from the grand stairs.

Painful it was to even lift their feet as they walked up the stairs towards their room. Every step, a terrifying jolt of pain would travel throughout their weak joints. They held their tears when passing Sir Reginald's and would let it all out once Grace tucked them in.

But when the children got into bed, their eyes remained opened awaiting their mother's kiss.

Five and Allison were not the only ones who cried themselves to sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOPS Sorry for making this extra emo :))))


	4. The Imaginative Clown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes!

Pogo frying an egg was what calculus was to Klaus; simply impossible.

Pogo had the necessary tools; a pan and stove. And Klaus would have his calculator and pencil. But somehow, defying all possible odds, both the stove and Klaus' calculus homework would combust into flames.

Surely, Sir Reginald's would combust as well at the disastrous sight if he wasn't cooped up in his study room.

Before the fires could merge into one unavoidable mess, Luther came running into the kitchen with a fire extinguisher aiming at every inch he spotted the orangey and red hue.

The already inedible and burnt food sitting on the kitchen table was now covered with a blanket of a white cloud. Pogo was also made victim, brown fur now completely powdered. Usually, the kids would find this to be a belly-aching scenario of hilarity but they sat still with their darkened eyes keeping to their laps.

This morning, the kids woke up and found Grace at her charging station, sitting still with her head bowed and arm exposed with torn wires. They sat with her and asked questions but she would not respond. Once called to the kitchen for breakfast, they left her with a kiss on the cheek. Diego was the last to arrive at the table. He was always the most comfortable around her.

Luther, the only child not sulking, sat back at the table (not in his order; Pogo was always easier on the kids) and stirred his unnecessarily large glass of green juice. His siblings twitched every time his spoon hit the glass which made the most obnoxious clinking sound.

Before Five could steal Diego's knives and cut both his own ears off, Allison reached for Luther's hand and she gave him a weak smile. He lowered the spoon and took a sip of the drink. He offered some to Allison but she cringed in response.

With his elbow, Diego nudged Klaus' side and tilted his head towards Pogo. Klaus raised his eyebrows and shrugged at his inaudible gestures. He nudged his side again harder this time and Klaus cleared his throat.

"Um, Pogo?" Klaus began. "Number Two wants me to ask you how long mom is going to be down for?"

Everyone's eyes lifted and darted over to Pogo, standing by the stove on his stool. They awaited his answer without much patience.

Features softening from his frustration caused by the fires, Pogo approached the table. "I'm afraid that it is rather difficult to tell at the moment." He admitted and gave each child a sympathetic look. "Your father requests your mother to be more aware of her surroundings and have a better sense of what you, children, are up to; an update on her mother's instinct if you will. With such updates, it may take a while."

At his unsatisfactory answer, Diego glared at Allison who glared at Five who glared back at Allison.

"Before you place the blame on any of your siblings, this was inevitable. Trust that your mother will return but for the meantime, It is best to care for each other, not go against one another." Pogo urged but the children's glares remained.

With a sigh, Pogo snagged Klaus' lighter and left to change his attire.

Luther took another sip of his green juice before stirring again. The clinking returned and the cold glares changed directions towards Luther.

Five's shaking leg intensified the faster Luther's spoon went around the cup. He thought to yell at him for being annoying, or simply slam the table with his fist to catch him off guard. Diego turned out to act quicker than Five, as he stood up and slapped Luther's glass across the table. It came flying towards Vanya but she quickly dodged to the right and the glass crashed into the wall.

With eyes widened and furrowed eyebrows, Allison's whipped her head around to Diego. "Number Two!"

"Yu-Yu-You did this!" Yelled Diego pointing his finger at Allison then at Five who rolled his eyes. "You both did!"

"You almost hit Seven!" Allison shouted back.

Vanya shrunk into her seat. "I'm fine –"

Ignoring Vanya, Diego screamed some more, "M-Mom wo-would still be wa-wa-walking around if you guys didn't leave the house!"

"That's not what Pogo said!" Allison battled.

"I-I-I don't care!" Eyes watering, Diego tossed his chair on to the ground and stomped toward the exit with Luther demanding he come back.

Before Diego could leave, the door flew opened and he jumped back when greeted by the abrupt entrance of their father.

Sir Reginald adjusted his monocle once noticing the green gunk on the wall and foamy table. The children sat in uncomfortable silence for a while and found themselves missing the clinking of Luther's stirring.

Sir Reginald groaned then let out a sigh.

"Off you go now."

They filed out of the kitchen in their order, but Sir Reginald blocked the doorway before Five could exit.

"Do better today, Number Five."

Keeping a blank face, Five glanced at Allison who was looking over her shoulder with a worried look. She quickly removed eye contact and followed the others downstairs.

* * *

Today was a terrible day for Grace to be turned off. Boxing in the ring always had the kids at their worst. Noses bled, jaw-breaking punches were thrown, and puffy eyes turned purple overnight. The mess they made was excusable for training but without Grace, Sir Reginald had to wrap the entire ring with plastic to avoid the children scuffing his equipment. He made a note to do the same with the kitchen as well.

Lined up in their appropriate order, Sir Reginald held up a pair of boxing gloves in front of Number Four. On it; large googly eyes that looked in every direction as the gloves swayed in Sir Reginald's hands.

Klaus tried for a wide smile. "Funny, right?"

His answer was no. He tossed the gloves into the garbage bin and dropped a new pair in front of the boy.

Klaus was then ordered to enter the ring with Number One.

No longer smiling, the colour in already his pale face was completely drained. Anyone who crossed Luther in the boxing ring would either end up unconscious for two ways or be flown across the room.

Once ready in the ring, Vanya hesitantly rung the bell to begin. Immediately, Klaus let out a weak yelp and began running circles around the platform like a headless chicken. The academy's eyes followed the chase sequence with their mouths half opened and heads cocked to the side.

Even Five, usually itching for a turn to fight, was strangely invested in the circus act before his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Five blinked out of his intense concentration to glance over to Allison through the side of his eyes.

Her worried look from earlier remained.

"What for?" He whispered back, an eyebrow raised.

She waited until Klaus was done shrieking before continuing.

"Number Two was right. I should have stayed home"

Five looked off to the side his foot tapped on the floor.

Allison had a history of manipulating not only strangers but her own siblings as well. Though Five does not quite remember a time she had used her rumours against him, he was sure it had happened before. He always found it odd how he suddenly had the willingness to allow Allison the washroom before himself last week. Or how he felt compelled to split his fluffernutter with her, the week before that.

Because of Five's suspicions, It was easy to dismiss Allison. Sometimes funny to have her sit in an empty hole of guilt.

He glared at her without saying a word, and something in her sad eyes said she wasn't expecting anything else.

Five sighed. "Yeah, well..."

He hadn't felt like leaving her alone today. Maybe he was getting too soft.

"It's not your fault you followed me." He continued with a shrug. "You should be able to have fun outside the gates of the academy as well. We all should."

Judging by Allison's rapid blinking, she had not known how to respond.

The ringing of the bell echoed throughout the room and their attention was put back on the ring. Apparently, Klaus had tripped on his untied shoes and decided to play dead or maybe he really was unconscious. It was probably for the best, regardless of what actually happened.

Sir Reginald called upon Two and Three to enter the ring after Luther dragged Klaus' limp body out.

Allison gulped.

Despite knives being his main weapon, Diego could do as much damage as Luther could with just his boxing gloves. Perhaps even worse with his cold eyes and lack of empathy.

The Academy's bully, Allison had once jokingly dubbed him. Though, no one seemed to disagree with her, not even Diego himself. In fact, it seemed he enjoyed throwing knives at Luther but swerving them at the last minute, as well as replacing Luther's shorts with smaller ones.

It was sometimes easier to believe Diego walked around without a beating heart in his chest.

Allison stumbled onto the platform and Diego was ready in his stance; slightly hunched over, with his sharp eyes glaring through his raised fists. Allison did the same, and when the bell went off she immediately found herself having to block a punch.

She aimed for his stomach and managed to have him choke out a breath. Now with his eyebrows furrowed even more, Diego swung without control and a crack echoed throughout the basement when his fist flew under her chin.

The children "Ooo'd" as Allison fell backwards, and a terrible sensation invaded her jaw. Breath heavy, she threw her gloves off to graze her fingertips on the sore spot. She was greeted with the moist substance of her sweat and tears.

Waterfalls came running down her cheeks once trying to open her mouth, but the pain was too antagonizing to bare. She stayed curled up in the middle of the ring until she was embraced by the familiar warmth of Luther, and she was carried out.

* * *

Allison kept to herself on the porch stairs of the front yard. The light breeze blew her hair back but what had made her shiver was the ice pack underneath her chin, tied around with a bandana. It created a small bow on her the top of her head which was a pretty extreme departure from their uniform. If Klaus saw her, he would surely be jealous.

The Ice cream truck was back again. It parked in its usual spot, beside the gates of the academy. Fewer kids than yesterday ran out of their houses and lined up.

A little boy stood staring at Alison with widened eyes, two half orange, half red slushies in hand. She attempted to smile at him but it came out crooked and awkward. The boy remained fascinated nonetheless.

"Are you from the Umbrella Academy?" He asked, cheeks rosy with delight.

She nodded in response, unable to talk. One thing that worked in her favour was the fact she was able to skip her individual training today, and Five took her slot. Though, she was still expected to do the physical exercises.

Despite her inability to speak, the boy's face lit up with excitement at her inaudible confirmation.

"What number are you, again?" He asked, stepping closer to the gate.

Allison raised three fingers and the boy gasped. "That's so cooool... I wish I had superpowers."

She gave a sympathetic shrug. What normal kids even do during playtime? It certainly must be a bore for a child to go about their day without experiencing the thrill of putting a bullet into a bad guys skull or snapping someone's neck with their own bloodied hands.

The little boy reached his hand through the gap between the fence and shook the slushy towards her. "You want one?"

Coyly, Allison waved her hands and shook her head but the boy insisted.

"It's too heavy for me to carry."

Allison cocked her eyebrow, wanting to ask why he even bothered to buy two.

In the distance, a ladies shrill voice called out for someone named _Julian_ and the little boy jumped. Frazzled, he waved Allison goodbye and left the slushy on the ground for her just in case.

Number Three had also wished to tell him his name was pretty.

The coast was clear and she reached her hand towards the cup and took a sip through the swirly straw. The refreshing and sweet ice hit her tongue and a prolonged hum escaped her lips. Along with the sugar rush, it helped the aching jaw subside just a little.

She sat back down on the steps, sipping her beverage and the icecream truck unblocked her view of the old man's house. Her eyes moved to the ground, not wanting to be reminded of the reason for her downfall. Too hopeful she was to think her father wouldn't catch them outside the academy.

It seemed the winds were only becoming stronger as Allison had to hug her nearly empty cup against her chest. It was difficult to even keep herself sitting upright.

Out of nowhere, an orange paper airplane landed in front of her.

She looked at it with a tilted head.

After a moment, another landed beside it.

Then another. Then another

Fanmail was not a rarity, nor were death threats. It was a gamble, really. But as Allison raised her head, she scanned the lopsided house and on the roof was the old man waving his hands frantically.

He held his hat on his head as the wind blew and he quickly wobbled back inside.

Allison would smile if she could.

Hiding the papers in her coat and leaving the cup behind, she ran up the stairs towards her room to take a better look at the airplanes.

Her eyebrows went upwards with suspicion when met with Ben, hugging a bucket (five had laid an unintentionally aggressive punch in his stomach during boxing), standing idly by her door room. His shoulders tightened and he faked a kinda scary smile as Allison approached.

She reached for her doorknob but Ben swayed to the right, blocking her way.

"You sure you wanna go in there?" He asked her, voice a bit too high.

Allison let out a confused murmur.

"Number One's in the kitchen, I think."

With Ben's obvious diversion attempt, Allison budded her way through.

She opened the door and there, Klaus, clearly conscious, paused from twirling in her sparkly dress that Allison used once for a fancy event the academy attended last month. Red lipstick went around his mouth and his cheeks were coloured a vibrant blue. Allison's drawers were propped opened and clothing was scattered on the floor.

They all shared awkward looks with one another.

Klaus broke the silence. "Nice bow."

Allison didn't thank him because well, she couldn't.

Klaus and Ben seemed to be waiting for Allison to kick them out but she simply held a finger to her chin. The boys stared as she shuffled through her drawer and took out another dress with more colour and frill. She held it out in front of Klaus, picturing how it may look on him.

"I don't think I can pull off those colours." Said Klaus honestly.

Allison gave him an "oh, please" look, and draped the dress over his shoulder for him to try.

He did so and he sure as hell pulled it off.

In his puffy dress, he joined Allison and Ben who sat on her bed staring at the airplanes the old man had given her.

She unfolded the first airplane. It was a painting of the Curious Prince, smiling proudly with his hand on his hips.

On the second airplane was a painting of the Stone Knight still struggling to carry her sword.

The Caged Owl was on the next page.

"Did you paint those?" Asked Ben, admiring the caged owl drawing.

She shook her head and clapped fingers, imitating a crab.

It took a moment to understand what she was conveying and Klaus gasped in disbelief. "Crab King painted these?"

She nodded this time and Ben let out a scared yelp, throwing the page out of his hand.

"He does a lovely job for someone without opposable thumbs." Admitted Klaus, looking over the pages. He knew their neighbour wasn't a crab; it was just funny to see Ben squirm.

Klaus unfolded the last page. On it; pretty cursive writing with an equally pretty picture.

The Curious Prince, Caged Owl, and Stone Knight had made it to the cave. There, they seemed to have met up with a clown crushed underneath rubbles of rock....

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

_They travelled through the depths of the dark forest with the Moon shining brightly upon them. Without help from the Stone Knight and her bear, they surely would not have made it by the time the Moon turned a vibrant orange._

_They've crossed wobbly bridges and running streams, small villages populated by pixies and gnomes until they finally made it to the deep caves of where the witches lived._

_The Stone Knight's bear left them at the entrance and ventured off to help other villagers seeking for attention, and the children thanked him for his help._

_Cautiously, the three entered the cave and ignored the sign that wrote BEWARE in scary letters._

_The Caged Owl directed them where to step but as they walked deeper into the cave, lanterns lit up the empty space._

_Painful whimpers echoed throughout and the children followed the sound. Where it leads, was what appeared to be a clown stuck under a pile of rubble._

_He laid flat on his stomach and only his face could be seen, along with his arms that stuck out. A river of teardrops were painted along both sides of his cheeks._

_What was especially odd about this clown was that he was deprived of any colour. Quite the boring entertainer he must be, to have hair dark as night, and a shiny nose, grey as a storm cloud._

_"What kind of clown are you if all you do is frown?" Sneered the Curious Prince, terribly unimpressed by what he sees._

_"A clown stuck under rubble, that's who." Spat the Colourless Clown. "I was trying to find my Jester hat, you see? It is filled with the most wondrous colours: red, orange and yellow. But the witches have stolen it and along with it; my imagination. I now lay here without a single joke to share."_

_"That still does not explain why you are stuck under rubble." Mentioned the Stone Knight._

_"I thought there would be a chance those pesky witches would hide it under here. It seems I was incorrect."_

_"It seems your intelligence was also stolen." Muttered the Curious Prince, rude indeed._

_The Colourless Clown let out an offended gasp. "Would you stop patronizing me and help me out of here? I have been here for way too long, and I feel my legs are going numb."_

_The Stone Knight shared a look filled with pity with the Curious Prince. It was rather heartbreaking to see a clown so sad._

_"We should help him." The Stone Knight decided but her companion shook his head in disagreement._

_"You trust too easily. He may be a witch in disguise."_

_"Then I, alone, will help him."_

_The Stone Knight began pulling the Colourless Clown's arms but the rubble was simply too heavy._

_She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before trying again. Still, there was no hope._

_"Though he is a clown, I urge you to take him seriously." Suggested the Caged Owl. "He is stuck like you once were in that castle of ours."_

_The Curious Prince thought of his Owl's words before letting out a sigh. There was truth in her words that he could not quite deny._

_The Stone Knight tried to pull the Colourless Clown once more, this time with the Curious Prince by her side. Like a glove, he slipped out of the rubble and the kids tumbled onto each, making a pile of their own._

_They let out joyous giggles before getting themselves back up._

_"I can not thank you enough for your help." Said the Colourless Clown, dusting himself off. "Tell me, where do you adventurers see yourself travelling?"_

_"We are in search of the witches that stole my Key of Freedom." Answered the Curious Prince._

_"And my Ruby of Hope." Added the Stone Knight._

_"Allow me to join you on your quest so I too can find what I search for; My Hat of Imagination. I know the caves well, and I have a friend who knows it better than me."_

_"Who is this friend, then?" Asked the Curious Prince._

_"I must admit, I have lost him as well. Though, he is known to be a coward so I would not be surprised if he was not stolen, but had just run off somewhere."_

_"Do you know where he may be?"_

_"I think I have an idea. Follow me, and I will lead you to him."_

_And deeper into the cave the children were lead._

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

Five came crashing on to the floor, bandages scrapping off his knees. With heavy breathe and shaking legs, he stood up finding himself in the attic. In front of him; the last handkerchief he searched for, peeking out of a floorboard.

He snatched it in his hands, not quite feeling the relief he thought he would.

Half of him hoped he would have ended up in the old man's attic. The lopsided house stared at him through the window, and he stared back for a while.

" _Nyooooooooom_!"

Five attention darted towards the direction of Ben's voice.

He climbed downstairs finding himself having to sway to the right as Ben, stomach no longer stressed, came running with a paper airplane in hand. At the end of the hall, Allison sat cross-legged, colouring in blank paper with old crayons they haven't used since they were four. Beside her was a pile of paper airplanes, some seemingly failed attempts at folding.

Klaus grabbed two planes and waved them around in his hand, swerving through the halls. He passed Five but quickly backed up once noticing him.

"Wanna play?" Klaus asked, offering one of his airplanes.

Five looked at it; It was decorated with a drawing of the Curious Prince. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"Sure."

Five tossed the handkerchief on the floor and replaced it with the paper airplane. Allison joined as well and laughter filled the halls as the children ran around freely.


	5. The Courageous Puppet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, sorry for the mistakes!

The academy did track today. They ran around the gym with Sir Reginald yelling their ears off.

"Concentrate, Number Five! Eyes forward! Allow nothing to distract you! You as well, Number Four! And _blah blah blah blah........_ "

Much like his record player, Sir Reginald was beginning to sound like white noise.

It was easy to block out his voice. His attire, on the other hand, was a flashlight shining directly into your eye.

Sir Reginald, always in his ridiculous overcoat and a top hat that made him look like a pretentious circus master. All he needed was a couple of hoops drenched in gasoline, then have them lit up with fire for the children to hop through. Perhaps they could also juggle a few bowling pins whilst jumping on a giant trampoline. Or maybe Sir Reginald could invest in some elephants and have them balance on bowling balls?

Five snickered at the ridiculous image.

"Must I repeat myself?! Eye's forward, Number Five!"

Five couldn't have rolled his eyes deeper into his skull. He continued watching the clock above the exit door despite his father's commands. Each lap the children completed was a minute closer to freedom.

The second hand was making its rounds. When it finally hit twelve, the children bolted out the gym door.

On Saturdays, the children of the Umbrella Academy were given a generous thirty minutes of free time in the afternoon.

Five, Klaus, Allison, and Ben devised a plan to sneak out of the academy and visit the old man. It was a collective realization that leaving the mansion would be easier now with only two guard dogs, as opposed to the usual three.

The first step was to gather in Five's room.

"The jump's pretty high... are you sure we'll be able to make it?" Asked Ben, looking down the window. Below was a pile of leaves Five had gathered himself in advance.

"You'll be fine." Assured Five, pushing it opened. "I've done this countless times without dying."

"Did it hurt?"

"Sure, but the pain will subside eventually."

Ben's shoulders tensed up at his answer. "Yeah, I think I'll pass."

"What if I catch you?" Offered Klaus.

"You won't. You can't even catch a ball that's like, two inches away from you."

Klaus threw his head back and groaned. "Oh my, GOD! You're never going to let that go, are you? It was ONE baseball game!"

"And we were tied against Number Two who literally has the ability to control anything he throws! Do you have any idea how awesome it would've been if we won that game?!"

"Thrilling, I'm sure." Muttered Klaus, sarcastically.

Five tapped his foot on the floor and watched the clock, impatiently. "Great. We've wasted two minutes on your guys' bullshit. Are you coming or not?"

He looked over to Ben and he shook his head. "I think I'll just stay here."

"Ugh, c'mon, bro! Don't you wanna know what happens next in the story?" Klaus waved one of the pages in Ben's face.

"I do, but you guys could just tell me what happens when you come back, anyway. Also, my stomach still hurts from my training yesterday. Dad wanted to see how they would react to pepper." Ben wrapped his arms around his stomach where the Horror's lived, a distant look in his eyes.

Klaus had his mouth opened, ready to plead but Allison patted his shoulder and tapped her wrist as if to say they had no time.

Her jaw was still in the process of healing with it now turning a purplish hue. It wasn't broken, but still, it pained her open and shut it.

Klaus let out a dramatic and unnecessarily long sigh meant to make Ben feel bad (and it did). "Fine. I'll grab you a souvenir while we're there, I guess."

Ben watched as Allison and Klaus climbed down the vines growing against the walls of the academy. They dropped into the pile of leaves, giggling.

Five warped outside the gates and on to the sidewalk, but Allison and Klaus stared at the barrier between them. The fences were recently coated with another layer of black paint, and were not too tall for the children to jump over; however, they were pointy at the top.

Klaus was brave enough to climb over first. He landed on his feet beside Five, where he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and his cheeks raised when his smile widened. The brothers looked back at Allison who was staring over her shoulder at the academy.

Ben waved at her, behind the now locked window.

She focused back on the fence and climbed over.

All three children ran across the street towards the lopsided house, leaving the Academy behind.

They ran up the stairs of the old man's creaky porch and Allison knocked on the door. When there was no answer, Klaus began drumming a catchy tune against it.

He stopped when his knuckles were reddening.

Five, having to warp somewhere else, had reappeared beside them. "He's not in the backyard."

"It's locked." Klaus pointed at the door.

Five hummed in acknowledgment before warping somewhere else. Seconds later, they heard a click and the door opened, revealing Five who leaned against the door frame.

* * *

Allison and Klaus had distracted themselves in the kitchen. It was much more cramped than their own, but quite intriguing, nonetheless; with its uneven floorboards and flashy splash guard.

They couldn't quite find the light switch, so the rays that spilled through the window was the only source of light they had as they rummaged through the drawers.

Allison slapped Klaus' hand away when he tried stealing a few boxed chocolate cookies from the cabinet but he was persistent and sneaked in bites when she wasn't looking. He then hopped on top of the counters and reached for the hidden goods in the cupboards, but was disappointed to find it was filled about a hundred prescription medicine bottles. Lollipops or gummy bears would have been a preferable treat but he kept a few pill bottles in his pocket anyway.

Klaus tipped over as he let out a sneeze, though he landed on the floor safely. Ready to pursuit new loot, he eyed the fridge coloured a bright yellow. It was covered in magnets of whimsical creatures with colourful sparkles and glitter. Klaus' favourite might have been the rainbow Pegasus with googly eyes.

Klaus let out another sneeze as he approached the fridge. He whispered an "excuse me" to thin air and walked around empty space. Once opening the fridge, his eyes dazzled at the massive amount of greasy and sugary foods ready to be consumed. He tapped his chin in thought.

"If Number Six was a cake, what kind of cake would he be? A strawberry shortcake or a lemon cake?"

For an opinion, he turned to Allison who stood behind him, and she crossed her arms, shaking her head in disappointment.

"What? I'm sure he wouldn't mind missing a few pieces." Said Klaus with a wink. He suddenly looked over to the empty space on his right and let out a bashful chuckle, with rosy cheeks. "I am quite adorable, aren't I?"

Allison squinted at him with an eyebrow raised. Klaus then looked slightly up to his left and let out an excited gasp.

"Really?! The whole thing?!"

There was a pause.

"Oh, but I couldn't..."

Another pause.

"Well, if you insist!"

Seconds later, Allison had to pull Klaus away from the fridge to prevent him from stealing an entire cake. His chest suddenly puffed up and he let out another sneeze directly on to Allison's face. In a frantic manner, her eyes squeezed shut and she stuck her tongue out in disgust.

Five ignored the disruptive rummaging caused by his siblings and remained by the entrance, where he glanced over the collection of pictures nailed to the wall. Most were in black and white; in the corner, a group photo of armed men holding large guns. Shiny medals accompanied it, along with a few pins.

On the opposite corner was a much more wholesome side. The same curly-haired girl was photographed in almost every frame. Her eyes squinted when she smiled, and her cheeks were deep with dimples. Another repetitive subject looked much like the little girl, except with a few more wrinkles, less freckles, hair much shorter. The old man was seen in only a few photographs, often wearing a shy grin.

In the centre of the wall was a family photo of the three around a small and familiar table shaped like a flower. It was a rather uncoordinated family photo compared to the Hargreeves.

Around the mansion, large picture frames hung with the Academy standing still beside each other, expressions strict and intimidating.

In the lopsided house, however, the family photo was somewhat blurred. The old man wore a feather boa while little girl sipped a tiny cup of tea. The old lady had her eye peek in the corner, trying her best to get herself in the photograph.

Perhaps it would be a good idea to leave the number of the Academy's photographer on the counter.

Klaus sneezed for the thirtieth time and it was starting to get on Five's nerves.

He warped into the kitchen finding his siblings fighting over a lemon cake and he began contemplating his decision of bringing them outside.

The sound of shattering glass behind the children had them freeze and turn. On the carpet floor, a broken vase that seemed to have randomly tipped over from its shelf.

As if a switch flipped, they got themselves in a triangle formation, fists raised in front of their faces and Klaus ready to attack with a cake.

"Would you put that down?!" Demanded Five with a harsh whisper.

"You're underestimating the power of cake," Klaus whispered back, confidently.

Five shook his head and decided that ignoring Klaus' irrational decisions.

His eyes scanned the empty room, intensely.

"Reveal yourself, asshole!" Demanded Five, eyes squinted.

Another vase came tumbling down.

  
Then another.

Before the kids could jump an invisible force, the fourth vase came down, and behind it were a pair of yellow circles staring at them. Emerging out the darkness, was an orange and white cat licking its paws, tail fluffy like a feather duster.

Allison and Klaus's eyes widened with hearts of adoration and Five grumbled.

"Awwww!" Exclaimed Klaus, now deciding to put the cake on the counter.

He ran up to the glowing-eyed-cat, stepping in the shards of glass without care, and the closer he got, the more sneezes he let out.

Regardless, he cuddled the cat against his cheek and he began tearing up from either his allergies or the cuteness of the precious creature. Probably both.

Allison took a turn carrying the cat, and she couldn't help but cry as well. It let out a quiet meow and Klaus clenched his chest, cries turning into whimpers.

They continued to pass the cat around, with Five rejecting every time it reached him. It went around in circles at least fifteen times until they heard another noise. They quickly returned into their triangle formation, this time with the cat resting on Klaus' shoulder.

They turned towards the entrance door where the rusty doorknob jiggled.

"Reveal yourself, dipshit!" Yelled Five and Klaus let out the grossest sneeze yet, right on to him.

Before Five could call him all sorts of names, the door opened, revealing the old man. He put his straw hat on to the hanger, and his wild hair was no longer contained. His eyes met with the children's and he jumped back at the random sight.

They waved at him with wide smiles.

For a moment he was silent. He blinked rapidly then smiled back.

* * *

The old man and the children gathered themselves in the attic, where they sat around the flower-shaped table and ate the cake Klaus was eyeing. Allison had the pleasure of tipping the teapot into each of the glass cups. When Five took a sip, he didn't complain that it wasn't actually tea but the pleasant flavour of orange juice instead.

Also on the table were multicoloured papers, which the children used crayons to draw on.

In Klaus' lap, the cat slept and he pets its head gently.

"Her name is Tigger, like from _Winnie The Pooh_." Said the old man who chose not to sit in the tiny chair but instead, crossed his legs on the floor.

"What's _Winnie The Pooh_?" Klaus had a hard time saying the last part of his sentence without giggling.

"It's a storybook. My daughter named her after one of the characters."

"Well, she's a real beaut!" Complimented Klaus, stuffing a spoon full of desert into his mouth. Food went flying towards Five as he chewed. He was about ready to smack the fork out of Klaus's hand.

Klaus continued. "Number Six is going to be so jealous once he hears we got to play with a real-life cat. He would've come if he wasn't so afraid of your crab claws."

"My what?"

"Nothing." Both Klaus and Five replied while Allison busied herself by sipping her orange juice.

The old man looked at them with a raised eyebrow but shrugged it off only seconds later when his curiosity brought him to another question.

"Say, how many numbers are there in the Academy?"

Their backs straightened at the mention of the academy like they did during QNA after missions. They looked at one another in a silent debate in who should answer. Klaus' mouth was stuffed with cake, Allison's wasn't even capable of talking, so Five went ahead.

"We have seven." He paused before continuing. "Well, more like six. Dad says Number Seven isn't extraordinary like the rest of us, so she doesn't have to train or fight crime."

The old man wore a slanted frown. "That's rather sad for her. She must feel left out."

"I dunno. I think she's lucky." Klaus shrugged, slicing another piece of the strawberry shortcake on to his plate. "We get hurt a lot, and it gets kinda scary sometimes."

"It does worry me that you, children, seem to gain a new scar with every visit." Admitted the old man with a frown. He was eying Allison, who was busy sketching a flower. "Was your jaw always purple?"

Allison looked up at him before writing something on a piece of paper:

_MY BROTHER PUNCHED ME IN THE JAW._

"Oh, how awful! I'd imagine your parents get very upset when you hurt each other?"

"Mom usually stops us when we tug at each other's hair, but she's not allowed to interfere during training sessions unless father says so." Explained Five

"I do miss her..." Added Klaus with a sigh. "She's sick right now."

The old man shook his head sympathetically, though he appeared more saddened by the news than the children themselves.

"Is there anyone else at home that takes care of you, children?"

"There's Pogo;" Mentioned Klaus. "He's like, dad's sidekick or something. He teaches us math and stuff like that."

The old man's gaze dropped and he went silent for a few moments as Five hissed at Klaus for being a slob. Klaus thanked him for his compliment and Five moved seats, further away from his mess-of-a-brother.

"Listen, kids," The old man spoke, bold eyes lifted and scanning each of the children. "If... if you're not feeling safe at home, don't be scared to say so. "

They looked at him with confusion and Five scoffed.

"Why would we not be feeling safe?" Five wondered without looking for an actual response. "We're a house of superheroes with extraordinary abilities. Facing danger is kinda our thing and bruises are apart of the deal. You can't expect us to fight crime and not get hurt in the process."

His siblings nodded in agreement but the old man still remained with an unsure expression.

"Your commitment to this game you're playing is inspiring, indeed." Observed the old man. "But if you're knees are bloodied and you find yourself unable to talk, I think there is a line to be drawn."

Five shook his head in a stern disagreement. "But that's the fun of it."

The old man returned to silence as the children babbled with one another. It was odd to see him so quiet when he was usually filled with questions.

His attention was brought back when Klaus pointed at the treasure chest in the corner, filled with props and costumes. "Can I try that scarf on?"

What he seemed to be refereeing to, was the feather boa that was coloured a vibrant orange.

"By all means." The old man's smile had made a comeback.

Klaus jumped off his seat and swept the cake crumbs off his shorts. He ran towards the chest and tied the boa around his neck.

"And this hat?" Asked Klaus, spotting a jester hat and waved it in the air, making the bells jingle.

"Absolutely!" Allowed the old man.

Klaus then gasped when getting a hold of a pretty and pink tutu, easy to slip into.

"And this skirt!?"

"I'm sure It'll look delightful!"

He put it on, and the combination of clothing made him look ridiculous.

"Do you mind if I roll down my socks?"

At this question, the old man had no quick answer for Klaus. Rather puzzled he was by it, and he shrugged. "I don't see why not?"

Klaus hopped up and down excitedly before folding his socks down to his ankles.

Allison tapped on the old man's shoulder and showed him a sign:

_CAN I CHOOSE SOMETHING TO WEAR, TOO?_

"Of course, you can!" He nodded and then looked over to Five. "Even you, little man."

Five shook his head and continued sipping on his orange juice, but Allison was persistent and dragged him by his arm towards the treasure chest. She took out a few costumes and placed from in front of a disgruntled Five to see what matched his eyes.

"There's so much in here!" Exclaimed Klaus, digging deeper. "I just want to dive in and swim in all of it!"

The old man chuckled as he watched them. "Lisa and I have been collecting costumes and props for quite some time now. We even sew a few of our own, like that cape you're wearing."

Hanging a cape on Five's shoulder, Allison grabbed a paper and wrote:

_WHO'S LISA?_

"Oh, she's my wonderful daughter. She's around the same age as you children, actually."

She wrote something on the other side of the paper.

_I'D LOVE TO MEET HER._

The old man's eyes darkened but his cheeks were still with soft dimples. "I'm afraid that's not possible. She's with her mother now."

"No, Lisa's right here." Said Klaus casually, as he took out a few pieces of jewelry. "Her mother is downstairs reading a book on her favourite sofa, I think. They're both real sweeties, by the way. Does this crown go well with my scarf or is it too much?" He turned to Allison for an answer.

_IT'S TOO MUCH._

"Good." Klaus gently placed it on his head. He then looked over his shoulder to the old man. "Lisa says hi, by the way. She's waving at you."

The old man hesitantly waved back at air. The old man appeared frazzled and confused by Klaus' odd joke.

It was Five, now wearing a cape, who elaborated. "Number Four can see the deceased."

His explanation didn't seem to help.

"She's wondering if you're ever going to finish that pirate ship you've been building?" Asked Klaus.

"Oh, I have forgotten all about it..."

"She also says don't forget to turn off the oven, again."

"Oh!" As quickly as he could (which was no that quick) the old man got to his feet and hurried out the door, towards the kitchen.

When he passed his wife's favourite sofa, he looked at it with wonder.

"Quite the imagination, indeed..." He mumbled to himself.

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

_The Curious Prince, the Caged Owl, and the Stone Knight marched behind the Colourless Clown as he lead them deeper into the cave._

_Though he may appear silly with his running makeup and loose sleeves that flapped when he waved his arms, the Colourless Clown was of great help. Without him, the others might have made the wrong turn and up going in circles._

_The caves were silent, with nothing but the droplets of water splashing down from the dark void above. The Colourless Clown tried for some jokes to fill in the silence, but the only audience member he managed to get a laugh out of, was himself._

_They found themselves at a dead end with a mine railway that leads into a tunnel. A few carts sat idly on the tracks. In the very first cart sat a tiny boy, perhaps the size of a doll. He popped his head up but his back faced them._

_"That's him! That's my friend! He knows where the witches roam!" Exclaimed the Colourless Clown, pointing at the small boy._

_The small boy turned his head so the right side of his face could be seen. He was made out of wood, and his button eye stared at the kids with horror. He let out a scared whimper before pulling the lever and riding the rails, deeper into the tunnel._

_The Colourless Clown stomped his feet and if he wasn't grey, surely his face would have turned a bright red. "A cowardly puppet as always! He runs without any idea of what he's actually running from! We must catch him before he gets himself hurt!"_

_"But how do we know those tunnels are safe?" Asked the Stone Knight._

_"I've ridden them many times and only got hurt thrice but it was my fault for not keeping my hands in the cart. You may see some peculiar things in there; the Adults like to work on there, but they do no harm."_

_The others nodded and hopped into their own individual carts._

_It was a bumpy ride and they held on tightly, speeding through the tunnel. The track separated into five different routes, leading each kid in three different directions._

_The path the Curious Prince and the Caged Owl took was pitch-black at first, with only the annoying clickety-clack noise to accompany them. A switch was pulled, and the lights brightened the path and revealed rows upon rows of the same tired and slouching businessmen, fingers busy typing away on their typewriters._

_The Stone Knight was lead through an aquarium tunnel. Instead of aquatic fish swimming around, there were normal grown-ups, floating in a lotus position. It was as if they were trying to relax but they would have to swim to the surface for air every five minutes._

_The Colourless Clown travelled through a quiet museum of portrait paintings of fancy ladies with high wigs and puffy dresses. Their faces were covered in a white powder, and red hearts were drawn on their pursed lips. After a few seconds, the fancy ladies in the portraits had their wide smile drop and would move into a different pose, then have their smile return._

_The tracks intertwined and the kids were on the same track once again._

_"Adults are weird." Said the Stone Knight._

_Both the Colourless Clown and Curious Prince nodded in agreement._

_"Indeed, they are." Said the Caged Owl._

_The carts were put to a halt when they ended up in a small town within the cave. Straight ahead, the puppet followed a stone path that leads to a library that reached the ceiling of the cave. The rest of the kids followed._

_They entered and found the puppet on one of the top shelves, with his back turned._

_The Colourless Clown rested his hands on his knees, letting out tired pants. "How did your tiny legs get you this far?! If I had known you were a runner, I would've built you without legs- AHH! Your eye! Where has it gone?!"_

_When the clown looked up, the little boy had turned his head, revealing that his left eye was gone with a thread of string popping out._

_"They stole it! Those wicked witches stole it!" The puppet whined and crossed his wooden arms across his overalls._

_The Colourless Clown pouted with him. "Oh, how cruel!"_

_"An understatement, don't you think?! Without my eye, I fear leaving the cave... The sun will be too bright for my one eye! Now I sit in the dark, with no courage left in me."_

_The Colourless did not seem affected by his dilemma but instead, rather confused. "I don't believe your eye had anything to do with your courage; you have been too cowardice to leave the cave even with two eyes."_

_Offended by his words, the puppet took off his shoe and threw it at the Colourless Clown. It hit him square in his circle nose._

_"I've had it!" The Colourless Clown curled his fingers into a fist and waved it at the puppet. "Get down from there before you fall and lose another eye!"_

_"No matter! I am already half-blind, what harm will I cause if I lose the other half?!"_

_"You will go fully blind!"_

_"So I will!" He turned his back on him once again and he spoke to the wall of books instead. "That way, I will no longer have to view the faces of ugly witches and monsters. And also yours."_

_The Colourless Clown threw the small shoe back at the Blind Puppet and it hit him upside the head. The two continued to ramble back and forth as if a contest to see who can ramble on the longest._

_Time's ticking and the Curious tapped his foot impatiently._

_"Perhaps we should help him instead of tossing shoes at each other?" Whispered the Caged Owl to the Curious Prince._

_The Curious Prince nodded in agreement. Ah, how thankful he was to have a wise Caged Owl._

_"Listen, Blind Puppet!" The Curious Prince took a step forward. "You have nothing to worry about, the sun shines no longer! Instead, the Moon has taken its place, and with it the night dark skies."_

_The Blind Puppet thought for a moment before shaking his head with a disappointing disagreement. "Oh, but now it may be too dark for my one eye to see..."_

_The Stone Knight then stepped up beside the Curious Prince. "Fear not, we will carry you through our adventure and you will give us directions to the witches. There, we will find your Eye of Courage."_

_The Blind Puppet thought for a moment again before hesitantly turning his head to face them. "Are you sure we will make it? Those witches are notoriously rude."_

_"We can only hope, Blind Puppet." Answered the Stone Knight with a comforting sincerity that made the Blind Puppet smile weakly._

_"Here, come down and I will catch you." The Colourless Clown offered and he put his hands out._

_The Blind Puppet peeked down and breathed out a heavy sigh before free-falling into his friend's arms. When he landed, they smiled after each other and he climbed into his shoulders as if done a million times._

_"I thank you for help and I apologize for running." Said the Blind Puppet, tapping his fingers together coyly. "I believe I saw the witches travel north of the cave carrying bags upon bags of stolen items."_

_"Then we shall travel north!" Exclaimed the Curious Prince, and the kids made their way to their next destination._

_The air was getting cooler the further they travelled the given direction..._

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

 

A picture of the Blind Puppet riding a cart was depicted on the fourth page. Ben was sitting on Five's, bed, holding the story in his hand and despite the colourful image, he wore an upset frown.

"You got to hold a real-life cat?!" Ben cried, lifting his eyes off the page.

Five, Allison and Klaus nodded their heads almost in synchronization.

Klaus was seated on Five's drawer, and he twirled his orange boa that the old man allowed him to borrow. "Should've been there, bro."

Ben let out a long, mopey sigh.

The dinner bell had echoed throughout the halls and along with it; Pogo's voice, calling them for lunch. The children shared a look once the familiar odour of burnt bread hit their nose.

Klaus left his boa under Five's bed, where they kept all the pages of the story. They ran downstairs, already full of cake.

A knife went flying towards Five's door. It stuck and pushed the door opened. Diego, practicing his swagger walk (chest puffed, chin raised, eyebrows furrowed, arms at least five inches away from his sides) went to retrieve his knife. He did a double-take when a vibrant orange under Five's bed caught his attention.

Whistling, he entered the room and reached his hand under the bed.

A smirk emerged from the corner of his lips once getting a hold of something quite intriguing. It seemed he had struck gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed that old-man lore. 
> 
> I'm going to be pretty busy the next few weeks, so updates might slow down (unless I procrastinate, which most likely will happen) 
> 
> I'm also thinking of changing the title of this story to something more cheesy cause "KIDS" is pretty lacklustre.


	6. The Loving Pirate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who left comments last chapter! Reading your guys' messages made my day <3
> 
> And once again, sorry for any mistakes!

Something truly revolutionary happened today.

Something that had Klaus gasp, Ben's jaw drop and Allison's eyes widen...

Five asked for help today.

Too prideful to look his siblings in the eye, he asked Klaus, Ben, and Allison to gather all the hidden handkerchiefs around the house while he warmed up for his scheduled training. That way, his training would be done in advance and he would have more time to play with his siblings

They agreed to help Five on the condition that he owed them each a favour as well. They shook on it and Klaus, Allison, and Ben split up in search of the handkerchiefs.

Ben looked through the shelves on the main floor, shaking every book of its contents until a handkerchief fell through.

Klaus shovelled through the washing machines in the laundry room. He let out an excited squeal once retrieving a handkerchief, but quickly gagged once realizing it was Luther's underpants.

Allison roamed through the halls of their bedrooms and checked her drawers, finding nothing but scattered blouses and skirts that Klaus had purposely left unfolded. Allison made a mental note to scold him for it later.

She checked Luther's room next. He was doing one-armed push-ups, counting under his breath when she entered. The record spinning on his record player spoke to him about the _Norman Invasion of England_. Allison held back a yawn.

With her head popped in, she put on a brightened smile and he acknowledged her with a wave.

"I'm looking for something. Can I come in?" Asked Allison, appearing a bit awkward with her lips pursed to the side. Though her jaw was still tender, Luther was one of her only siblings that she was certain would not make fun of her appearance.

"Sure," He nodded and rested on his knees. He lifted the stylus off the record and focused his attention on Allison. "What are you looking for?"

"Handkerchiefs," Allison answered, stepping inside. She inspected his records stacked inside his shelf. They were all for educational purposes.

Luther tilted his head to the side. "Handkerchiefs? For what?"

"Pogo hid them around the house for Five to collect."

"Wait, you're doing Five's training for him?"

"I guess, but we're kinda making a game out of it. Some of us have a bet to see who collects the most. Wanna play?"

Luther looked at her for a second, trying to find any indication that she was joking. When there was none, he spoke hesitantly, "We only have free time on Saturdays."

Allison shrugged. She walked passed Luther towards his closet and looked through his recently ironed uniform.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you use your free time." She pointed out in a light tone. "You're always training."

"I like training."

Allison raised an eyebrow at him with a knowing smirk. Numerous occasions has she seen Luther laying face flat on the ground after his individual training.

"I like training, _most_ of the time." Luther corrected himself, scratching the back of his neck.

"But, don't you ever want to read a book for fun? Or even draw a picture?"

"I guess." He admitted, "I don't think dad would be very happy to see me doing those things, though."

Allison frowned in pity but he remained with a soft smile.

"It's okay." He assured her. "A leader shouldn't be goofing off, anyway. Which reminds me– you guys should really be studying for Physics. We have a test tomorrow."

Allison thanked him for the reminder before leaving his room, certain there were no handkerchiefs hidden in his room. She went on to check her other sibling's room but still, the results were disappointing.

Herself, Klaus, and Ben regrouped in the middle of the hallway. They formed themselves in a circle and they looked at the handkerchiefs bundled in their palms.

"Three." Announced Klaus.

"Eight." Stated Ben.

Allison put nine fingers up.

"That's--" Klaus looked up, counting silently to himself. "Twenty-five more handkerchiefs to go."

Allison and Ben let out a tired sigh.

"How is that even possible? We've checked everywhere." Whined Ben.

"Well, not everywhere. None of us checked the toilets." Mentioned Klaus and Ben cringed.

"Why would we do that? That's so gross."

"Which means it's the perfect hiding spot."

Allison nodded in agreement, and for once saw the logic behind Klaus' thinking.

Before they could subject themselves to a nasty and quite frankly, unsanitary series of events, their conversation was interrupted by a timid voice.

It was mumbled but nevertheless, it caught their attention and they twisted their heads seeing Vanya, standing coyly in front of her room with her hand behind her back. She retreated behind her bangs, unable to pick a pair of eyes to focus on.

"I said there's nothing in there," Vanya repeated herself only slightly louder. Her siblings stood frozen and once she realized they were awaiting an explanation, her speech hurried along, "Once, Dad had Pogo hid a handkerchief in the toilet, and it clogged. They never hid it in there again."

Ben let out a giant sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God."

And at the same time, Klaus' shoulders slummed and he snapped his fingers. "Ah, bummer. At least we collected half, I'm sure Five can handle the other twenty."

"He can," Agreed Ben. "But he'll be too tired to play with us, then."

"Play? What are you guys playing?" Vanya took a small step closer to them.

"Huh? Oh, nothing." Replied Klaus, unhelpfully. "It's just an Academy thing, y' know? I don't think you'd get it."

"It _is_ kinda weird." Said Ben when Vanya looked at him. Allison nodded in somewhat of an agreement.

Vanya's eyes met the floor. "Oh."

"Maybe we should just check the downstairs area again?" Suggested Klaus. "In between the book pages and stuff."

"I did that already. I only found one." Stated Ben, shaking his head

"Okay, how about Pogo's room?" Asked Klaus.

"No, nothing is in there, too." Vanya budded in once again. She continued, "If you need help, I can help-- I mean if you'd like me to. I know most of the places the handkerchiefs are hidden."

Allison's eyebrow quirked. "Wait, really?"

Vanya nodded and her siblings shared a joyous look.

* * *

Five entered his room in a flash of light and was met with his eager siblings with proud smiles. In their arms, they held all forty-five handkerchiefs. An impressive scene to behold, but he would not dare admit that. Instead, he thanked them half-heartedly. He did allow a small yet genuine smirk when looking at Vanya. Though they all held their own pile of handkerchiefs, she had the most.

"Are you playing with us?" Five asked Vanya.

Vanya hesitated for a second before shrugging weakly. She tossed her handkerchiefs into the pile that her other three siblings had left them. Klaus reached under Five's bed for his feather boa.

"I think I'll just watch." Said Vanya. "Have you received any new pages to the story? I've only read three."

Five had made it a habit to teleport to Vanya's room at night every time he received a new page, though he just remembered he had forgotten to show her the fourth.

It was a good thing Sir Reginald did not check on them at night, otherwise, he would find the two fast asleep, heads on each other's shoulders.

Five lightly kicked Klaus' legs that peeked from under his bed. "Get the story while you're down there." Demanded Five.

"I can't find anything." Klaus' voice was muffled. "Are you sure you put it under here?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Five confirmed with a sigh. When he heard Klaus cause more ruckus and no results, Five reluctantly grabbed his flashlight off his nightstand and crouched down, joining Klaus under the bed.

"You're probably just not looking hard enough."

The flashlight lit the dark and compressed space. In a shocking turn of events, Klaus was right. Five found nothing but a few pairs of lost socks and a cloud of dust.

Worried, Ben laid beside him and saw the same nothingness his brothers stared at. Moments later, Allison joined them and panic set, with no feathery boa or pages seen. "You lost it!" Accused Allison.

"No, I didn't!" He yelled backed.

"Then where is it?!" Klaus blurted.

Ben gasped. "Did Pogo find it?!" His eyes then widened. "Did dad find it?!"

"Looking for these, a-a-assholes?!"

Five, Allison, Ben, and Klaus scrambled back onto their feet and were met with Diego, leaning against the door frame with a sly smirk. In his hand; the pages they've lost. Tied around his forehead like a bandana was the orange boa.

"Ugh, you're so annoying! Give our stuff back!" Yelled Allison, immediately wincing after her jaw ached.

"Give mom back!" Diego yelled back.

The Five and Allison rolled their eyes. It's been five days and still, Diego sulked from the loss of their mother. They felt bad for him first but now he was just being a crybaby.

Allison took a threatening step forward. Before she got too close, Diego quickly held a knife against the pages, ready to shred.

"I'll do it! Duh-Don't you t-t-test me!"

The children found themselves participating in an intense staredown. An uneasy silence laid a blanket over them. Vanya stood in the middle, and she rapidly darted her eyes between the teams.

"ATTACK!" Klaus, breaking the silence, screamed and his sibling's initial reaction was to follow along despite his history of bad ideas.

They pushed Vanya out of the way and chased Diego through the halls.

Diego sprinted towards his room and leaned against his closed door. The relentless kicking on the opposite side had him struggling to hold still.

The pounding of the door softened, and he assumed his siblings had foolishly tired themselves out. But in the corner of his eye, a flash of lights appeared and he suddenly found himself getting dropped kicked by Five.

Diego grunted when landing on his side but he wouldn't dare go out without a fight.

Effortlessly, Diego jumped back on to his feet. Five whipped a pillow towards him, but Diego was quick to duck. Hugging Five by his torso, Diego slammed him against the wall and kept him there. Klaus, Ben and Allison came to the rescue and pulled Diego away. They dragged him with his arms around his back and his legs flailed wildly. The final blow was given by Five, who reached for a glass picture frame hanging above the wall he had been pushed against and smashed it over Diego's head.

Diego, a defeated enemy, fell on to his knees and the glass of the frame cracked at the rough impact.

He wobbled when trying to stand but shortly gave up with his head spinning. Focused on the picture frame, he saw a distorted image of himself through the reflection of the broken glass.

Five snagged the papers out of Diego's loose grip and stomped out his room. He tried to ignore Vanya's widened eyes that were seen peeking over the side of the door frame.

Klaus gently removed his boa off Diego and patted his shoulder, as if to say "good game". Allison had blown a raspberry and called Digeo a _bully_ before leaving. Ben stood still, looking at his beaten brother for a while and hesitated to speak. He ran off without saying a word.

For once, Diego had not the effort to fight back. Instead, his unsteady hand reached for the shard that had fallen off the picture frame. He tried his best to stick it back on.

* * *

Vanya sat cross-legged by her usual spot on the ledge of the attic window. She had trouble reading the page she was given, knowing how it was retrieved. Putting it aside, she watched Klaus, now with his feather boa, and Ben throw paper airplanes around. Five sat next to her, drawing something on a piece of paper. It was unidentifiable but it had mixed colours like purple and green together. Much like their neighbour, Five didn't seem like a great artist as well.

"Why did you do that to Two?" Vanya asked after silently thinking to herself.

"Do what to Two?" Questioned Five back.

"You broke something of his."

Five paused from colouring and glanced at Vanya. " _He_ was going to break something of _ours_. We had to stop him."

Vanya shrugged weakly. "I still think you guys should apologize."

"But he started it!" Allison budded in, seated on the floor beside them and also colouring a picture of her own. It was of a memorizing scene of a little girl going through an aquarium tunnel.

"He's crying." Said Vanya.

Allison rolled her eyes. " _Boo-hoo_."

Vanya looked off to the side and for a moment, she remained quiet. She then planted her feet onto the ground and ran out of the attic. Drumming his crayon on the floor in silent debate, Five chased after her.

* * *

Five found her standing by Grace's charging station. Slowly, he walked up next to her and they both were frozen at the sight.

Their mom was still sitting idly with her eyes closed and head bowed. Her left arm was carefully pried opened— red and blue wires stuck out in all sorts of directions.

Her other arm was wrapped loosely around a sniffling Diego, and he rested his head on her shoulder. He tightly hugged the broken picture frame against his chest and close to his rapidly beating heart.

His eyebrows furrowed once noticing his siblings spying on him. He opened his mouth but the words refused to come out. He huffed out loudly and huddled deeper into his mother's embrace.

Vanya was brave enough to step closer. Diego simply watched her with an intense glare as she sat herself down in front of the mother and son duo, eyeing the frame within his grasp.

"Can I see that?" She asked in a timid tone.

Diego squinted at her but when she offered a soft smile, his forehead smoothed. Hesitantly, he nodded and allowed Vanya to hold it.

Within the frame, was a lovely embroidery of the academy's signature domino mask. Grace had made one for each of her children, though no one seemed to love theirs as much as Diego did.

"There's blood on it." Said Vanya, pointing at one of the broken shards popping out.

Diego shrugged, tucking his hands under his sleeves. "I wah-was trying to fix it." He explained, glaring at Five.

Five awkwardly stood from afar, with his eyes focused on the red carpeting. His foot tapped rapidly before he spoke in a muttered manner, "Well, your craftsmanship is severely lacking."

Diego was about to lunge forward but Five quickly continued,

"But, I think I know someone who could help."

* * *

The starry night skies were a beauty to look at this Sunday evening. Pogo came around the rooms to tuck the children into bed.

Unlike cooking, he was quite fond of saying goodnight to the kids. He was able to speak to them in a genuine matter, and not about math, or history, or science like he usually did.

Once saying his goodnights to Number Seven, he shut her door and tiptoed his way downstairs to his room.

The halls were dark and empty– not a sound to be heard but the crickets chirping outside. That was until Klaus' doorknob began shaking, and he burst out. Ben came along, then Allison, then Vanya and Diego, hugging his picture frame.

The tip-tap of their slippers against the hardware floors scattered throughout. Allison kept her distance from Diego as they headed to Five's room. Five already had his window opened, ready to jump out of.

Five had remembered the poorly carved wooden horses attached to the wagon in the old man's backyard. The edges were zig-zagged unintentionally, and what was suppose to be the horse's head looked way too triangular. Despite the old man's horrid attempt at arts and craft, Five planned to sneak out to the lopsided house to see if the old man could fix Diego's picture frame. The other children somehow budded themselves into the plan.

It was more risky with the multiplication of team players, but seeing as Sir Reginald was cooped up in his study room, pen furiously gliding through that red notebook of his, Five had no concerns about getting caught.

He told his sibling to whisper just in case, but Klaus was never one for following instructions.

"Have you gotten over your fears?" Klaus nudged Ben with his elbow.

Ben crept closer to the window and looked down at the terrifying height he has to face.

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna stay—"

Klaus pushed him and Ben screeched as he fell. He landed in the pile of leaves and moaned in agony. His siblings shushed him from above.

Okay, maybe Five had a few concerns.

Klaus jumped after Ben, while Allison chose the safe route of effortlessly climbing down the vines.

They landed on the grass and looked up at Diego, who was peaking his head out the window.

"How many times have you guh-guys snuck out like this before?" Diego questioned Five.

"Does it matter?" Five retorted, folding his arms.

He side-eyed Diego with suspicion and Diego rolled his eyes as he popped his head back inside. 

"I'm not going to snitch if that's what you're w-w-worried about."

"That's what a snitch would say."

"I'm not a snitch." Diego asserted through clenched teeth. "I just think it's way too risky to be snuh-sneaking out in the middle of the night to visit some old duh-dude who probably keeps like, an army of rats uh-under his fluh-floorboards, or whatever... If dad finds out–"

"He won't find out." Five quickly promised.

"But he has before." Diego's tone was sour, and his glare was freezing cold with hostility. "That's why m-mom was shut off, remember?"

"Okay, do you want your picture frame fixed, or not?" Five grimaced. "Because If you're just going to be mad at us for the entire duration of our trip, It'd be better you not join us. I'll just take it for you and bring it back, fixed—"

Five reached for his brother's picture frame but Diego held it tighter and frantically jolted back. "No, don't touch it!" He cried, and Five's hand retreated.

"I'll come, I just —" Diego blinked hastily as his teary eyes threatened to return. "Let's be smart about this, alright? Have a plan set in case things get messy."

"You need to relax, you're starting to sound like Number One."

Diego winced like he had smelled something awful. "Ew! Never say that a-a-again! Take it back!"

"I will, once you stop acting like you have a stick up your butt. Let's go"

Diego puffed his reddening cheeks and was so very close to punching Five in the stomach. He let out an audible growl before deciding against his violent actions and climbed down the vines of the academy.

Five looked over to Vanya, who had been sitting on the edge of his bed silently. "Will you be joining us?"

"Oh," Her eyes widened as if surprised by being prompted into a conversation. She bit the corner of her lip in contemplation before shaking her head. "I don't want to be a bother. I am quite tired, anyway. I just wanted to wave to you through the window, if that's okay?"

Five was disappointed but chose not to argue with her. He said his goodbyes and teleported outside, where the tiny hairs on his arms stood as the cool, night breeze greeted him with an unwanted hug.

Klaus and Ben crouched down, wrapping their arms around their knees for any sort of warmth. They were also entertained by the crickets hidden within the yard, that hopped to one dandelion, to another.

Allison was focused on the small specks shining above in the dark skies. She reached her hand out for the stars, clenching her fingers together as if to grab a few in her palm. And It was impossible to ignore the moon, so full and bright. If she was able, she would have brought Luther along just to share the breathtaking sight. Though, he was not always the most open when it came to bending the rules.

"Guys, look." Diego had spoken. He slowly walked closer to the gates separating them from the streets. He held the bars and looked up at the lopsided house in awe.

They shared a look before joining Diego by his side. And, at the same time, their eyes twinkled at the sight. Through the attic window— a glowing hue that went from blue, then orange, then red then green...

* * *

There was that familiar stench of smoke again. A plate of round charcoal was placed on the table shaped like a flower. Cinnamon rolls, once again, were the old man's delicacy.

His old record player spun a record with a mellow and calming tune— A duet of a woman telling a man to _dream a little dream_ of her. The tempo was slow, with a single trumpet playing in the background along with the light strumming of the base.

The attic was brightened by paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, that change do hues every so often. Cut out in the centre of the colourful crafts, were outlines of the characters found in the story. They swirled around slowly, and the light spilled out of the cutouts, making the shadows of characters roam the painted walls.

The children were piled on to one another just after having to climb through the attic window. Though they were in uncomfortable positions, they couldn't help but pause and stare at the mesmerizing scene.

"Um, kids?" The old man had cleared his throat and the kids looked over to him in synchronization. He was seated on the floor, and with him; a ship only half painted with a chilling blue. Newspapers kept the paint from dropping on to the wood planks.

"Your climbing skills are truly astonishing" he admitted. "But, shouldn't you kids be home in bed? It's nearly ten o'clock."

"We need something fixed." Five answered as he pushed his siblings off of him. He stood up and dusted his pyjama pants. The others did the same.

"Number Two broke his frame." Five continued.

"No, _you_ broke it—"

Diego was cut off when Five shoved him towards the old man.

He stumbled in front of him and glared at Five with a clenched jaw.

"That's quite the scratch." Said the old man, looking at the frame under Diego's arms. "We may just have to replace the glass, or I could get you an entirely new frame if that's what you'd like?

Diego shrugged and looked off to the side. "Y-Yeah, I guess."

"Tomorrow morning should be a good time to do so." 

Five eyebrows shifted upwards. "Why? Are you busy now?" 

"No, I can't say I am. Though I worry your family will miss you at home– being it such a late hour and all." 

"We won't stay for long." Claimed Five. "Just until you fix the picture frame, then we'll head back to the Academy." 

The old man made face of uncertainty, looking at each of the strange kids standing in front of him. Five palms were scratched from falling, and Allison's bruises have yet to fade. Diego's fingertips were inked in dried blood, and Klaus appeared as if he hadn't known what sleep was.

"Your other friend seems to be hiding." Said the old man.

Behind Allison, was Ben purposely shielding himself. His legs were quivering as he hugged his stomach tightly.

"That's Six," informed Klaus. "He's kind of a pussy–"

Allison slapped Klaus' arm and he pouted. She quickly spoke, "Six is here for the cat, is what he meant to say."

"Oh, she's right by the treasure chest. I'm sure she'd be delighted to meet new people." The old man pointed towards a certain direction.

"Does that mean we can stay?" Klaus beamed.

The old man paused before nodding with his usual, warm smile. Ben's head perked up and he ran towards the treasure chest with Klaus following behind. Five, Diego and Allison sat with the old man on the floor as he inspected the broken frame.

Diego silently judged the old man who was adjusting his crooked eyeglasses. His siblings hyped him up so much, he expected so much more than some wrinkled raisin with bad eyesight. The rise and fall of the stranger's chest was intense, and it was as if he struggled to do the mundane taste of breathing. His hands were shaky, and it was almost as if the picture frame he held was vibrating.

Diego thought to take it back in fear he would drop it, but the old man spoke,

"This was stitched quite beautifully. Who made it?"

Diego took a moment to answer, but his mouth hung open.

"Mom did." He told him, and his siblings had to do a double-take when a fond smile crept across his usually disgruntled face. "Sh-She made me a bunch of other things too, but this one's my favourite. Maybe second favourite, actually. She made me a bl-blanket once, with all sorts of patterns and I thought that was really cool. I kinda wa-wanna make something for her, y' know, for wh-when she comes back."

The old man nodded at his plan. "That would be a very nice thing to do, I'm sure she would appreciate it. When my wife was sick, my daughter would visit her every day at the hospital and give her a painting every visit. Her walls were covered by the end of the week."

"Mom does like p-paintings. I think I'll do that."

"Maybe you could have your siblings help you?"

The old man and Diego looked over to Five and Allison, and they focused their gaze on the floor.

"You would, won't you?" Asked the old man.

Five and Allison shrugged, without a proper response. Diego frowned.

"It doesn't matter." He mumbled, "I can do it on my own. I'm the only one who buh-buh-bothered to ask what her favourite colour is, ah-anyway."

"Ah, yes, a very vital piece of information, indeed!" Said the old man with a sympathetic smile. "I can tell you love your mother very much."

Five and Allison shared a knowing look. Diego and Love were a combination that never existed.

"I do love her."

But his answer had proven them wrong.

"With all my heart..."

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

_The travellers travelled north and the air got cooler the further they walked._

_The cave town was far from where they were now. They now walked through an abandoned track. An opening was seen in the distance and winds of impeccable force nearly knocked them off their feet. Snow was also a factor, as it twirled into the cave and melted on the red noses of the freezing children._

_Though the direction of where the Blind Puppet led them was quite inconvenient, they were glad to have a new companion to lead them in the right way._

_They made it out of the cave and found themselves in a winter wonderland. The snow that piled up, reached to the children's knees and surely they would lose the petite, Blind Puppet if he hadn't been on the shoulders of the Colourless Clown._

_Other than the aggressive howling of the winds, it was a quiet and isolated land with not much life seen roaming around. Perhaps it was abandoned?_

_There was a paved path towards an ice rink that was once the ocean. Far in the distance where the ice rink met its end, a tower of cards that the witches circulated. The moon was still shining in the sky, and the vibrant orange had taken up half its surface._

_"Time will certainly run out if we do not to that tower of cards." Said the Curious Prince._

_"But however will we get there in this horrid weather?" The Blind Puppet wondered. "My teeth are chattering relentlessly, and I fear they may fall off at this rate."_

_"And I am getting quite tired. I yearn for my Jester Hat as much as I yearn for a soft bed to lay on." Added the Colourless Clown._

_The Stone Knight pointed ahead. "There is an old pirate ship straight ahead stuck in the ice. We could rest there for a while."_

_The children agreed and they carefully walked across the icy surface. As they got closer, the more impressed they became by the size of the ship, despite its tethered sails, and broken bowsprit._

_A creaky, wooden plank leads them up to the deck. Right about to take a step into the boat, the Curious Prince's face was hit by a flying snowball._

_"Oh dear, Curious Prince!" Cried the Caged Owl. "Are you okay?"_

_"I sense a threat." Informed the Stone Knight. She lifted her heavy sword the best she could. "My Prince, as a Knight serving your Kingdom of Something Simple, I will defend you with all my—"_

_The Stone Knight's face was met with a snowball to the face as well._

_The Colourless Clown screeched when he got hit, and the Blind Puppet had almost fallen from his shoulder once attacked as well._

_"Arrrrrr!" A pirate yelling from the crow's nest of the ship. "Get off me ship before I replace the snowballs with cannonballs!"_

_"Me ship", seemed like a stretch. Indeed, he was a pirate with a hook for a hand and a peg for a leg, but he was just a kid and wore no captain's hat. Instead, an old rag acted as his bandana, and his voice was squeaky without confidence. He also appeared to be shaking from the cold, and it was as if his skin was turning blue._

_"Ah, how rude! Don't you see, we are freezing?!" Yelled the Stone Knight back._

_In response, the pirate scoffed. "Who's fault is that? You should have packed an extra coat, or maybe some hot cocoa."_

_The Colourless Clown's head peeked up with sudden interest. "Do you have hot cocoa?"_

_"Maybe I do." The pirate shrugged. "None to share with you freaks, however."_

_"Your personality is as cold as the weather." Spat the Stone Statue._

_"It is not me fault! Those ugly witches stole something special to me—"_

_"Your leg?" Said the Blind Puppet._

_"Your hand?" Said the Colourless Clone._

_"Your heart?" Said the Stone Statue._

_"My parrot, you pestiferous numbskulls!" Fumed the Cold Pirate but suddenly, his eyes went soft. "She's kind and lovely, and I've had her since I was this small—" He lowered his hands to his knees. "Truly, she is the only family I have, and the only friend I truly care for. Without her, I have forgotten what it means to love and to be loved. As a result, my heart and whole body has turned into ice."_

_The Colourless Clown held onto his chest and pouted his lips._

_"Oh, how tragic! Perhaps we could help? We are heading to the witches in search for—"_

_"Wait, wait, wait a minute." Blurted the Curious Prince suddenly. "This is getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think? We can't just invite every kid we pass by on our adventure. We'll have the whole village following us at this rate."_

_The Caged Owl hooted, grabbing the attention of the boy who carried her. She spoke, "What is wrong with being apart of one big family? The Cold Pirate may be rude and aggressive, but I think all he needs is a friend to warm his heart."_

_The Curious Prince thought for a moment before letting out a sigh. He looked back up at the Cold Pirate who shivered in his light clothing._

_"Cold Pirate, we plan to travel to the house of cards, over yonder. Perhaps if you allowed us to find comfort in your ship, we could help you find your parrot?"_

_"And what's stopping me from travelling by myself?" Questioned the Cold Pirate._

_"It'd be a lonely journey and I would assume you are tired of being alone in this empty winter wonderland." Responded the Curious Prince._

_The Cold Pirate stood silent for a while without a response. What replaced his furrowed eyebrows was a softened forehead and a saddened frown. "You'd be right about that." He admitted._

_He climbed down the crow's nest and came face-to-face with the wanderers. "Come aboard the ship and into the crews quarters. The snow will subside soon but in the meantime, cups of cocoa will keep us warm."_

_The kids smiled at their new friend and hugged him with an unfamiliar warmth. He eased into it before leading them down the hatch, into his home._

_They kept themselves there for a while, and the moon was steadily becoming a vibrant orange._

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

Five had awoken by the warm and bright sun piercing through the window. Ben's arm was wrapped around him, while the cat slept by their feet. Allison's head laid on Klaus' shoulder, while his snoring blasted in Five's ear. Beside Klaus, Diego drooled on his newly framed embroidery.

A large blanket kept them cozy, and their heads sunk into stitched pillows.

Five ducked his head under the blanket and squeezed his eyes back closed in an attempt to fall back to sleep, but the aggressive chirping of birds made that difficult to do.

"Ah, shit!"

His eyes widened back opened at Diego's sudden yelp. Diego pulled the blanket off his siblings and they groaned, and complained, and yelled at him.

Through the incoherent and scattered arguments, Diego yelled;

"It's the f-f-fucking morning!"

They all shut up at that. They looked around, still in the old man's attic. The realization set in; Sir Reginald was probably standings by the dining table, eyes stuck on his stopwatch.

The kids panicked, and screamed, and cried, and jumped out the window, heading towards the academy.

* * *

Vanya and Luther stood idly in front of their chairs at the dining table. Odd it was to not be fighting for the bathroom and for a moment, they thought they were the ones who had awoken late.

Sir Reginald's stopwatch ticked. The second hand passed twelve, and the academy was officially late to breakfast.

Five materialized in front of his seat with his hands in his pocket. His posture was slouched, and his eyes stared focused on anything other than their father.

The rest of the academy shuffled in. Sir Reginald shook his head with a familiar disappointment.

"Ten minutes late. It's as if you are aiming to be failures." He looked up and his eyes slowly scanned the children. "Number Four, you're out of uniform once again. Put on your tie, immediately. Wipe that grime off your chin, Number Two, and have your hair combed. This is an academy, not a zoo. Number Six, your blazer is on backwards. Number Three, you've got your slippers on instead of your shoes. And Number Five," they made eye contact. "straighten your back. No one is going to take you, or this institution seriously, if you present yourself as such."

They sat on their chairs and then the monotone narration of Sir Reginald's record player began.

Klaus picked up his strawberry and made it fly like a plane. Ben set up his toast into a house for the plan to land on. Allison folded her napkin into a hat, while Five made his into a boat. Diego, seen smiling for the first time, formed a heart on his pancake using blueberries.

Luther watched them, completely dumbfounded. 

Something wasn't right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house we support soft boy Diego Hargreeves 
> 
> I think there's going to be three chapters more left to this story, but I'll keep it at (?) just in case I'm wrong. 
> 
> (btw the song being played in the old man's attic is "Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Flizgerald and Louis Armstrong)


	7. The Dreaming Fisherman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k so I now deem this an AU where the ladder by Five's window doesn't exist because I totally forgot that was a thing in the show WOOPS 
> 
> anyways, enjoy and sorry for any mistakes

 

*****

*****

*****

 

_The travellers awoke from their nap. They were well-rested, and the hot cocoa provided by the Cold Pirate still warmed their tummies._

_They ventured outside the ship and made their way towards the castle of cards. To keep themselves from slipping on the ice rink, the kids held hands and supported each other through the icy surface._

_They see the end of the ice rink close by. A forest with peach trees laid ahead, and the snow seemed to melt the closer they got._

_Also in the distance was a young boy. He sat on a wooden stool with a fishing rod reaching down a perfectly circle ice hole. Several other holes surround the young boy as well. How he would get up and walk away from his stool without falling was an intriguing mystery to the travellers._

_"That is the fisherman who sits by his fishing hole without breaks in between." Whispered the Cold Pirate to his new friends. "I don't believe I have ever seen him walk out of his spot."_

_The Stone Knight yelled out to the young boy. "Hello fisherman, have you lost something?"_

_The fisherman did not bother to look at who had called out to him and instead, kept his eye on the prize. "No, I am just fishing."_

_"What are you fishing for?" Questioned the Stone Knight._

_"Fish." The fisherman responded._

_"Oh. I suppose that is a given." The Stone Knight was quite embarrassed by her question but she went on, "How long have you been fishing?"_

_"Since the moon had turned a vibrant orange. I haven't caught any as of yet."_

_"Do you think you will catch any at all?" The Colourless Clown cut in._

_"I'd like to." The fisherman replied._

_"But do you think you will?" The Blind Puppet prompted._

_He shrugged. "Maybe."_

_Rather vague this strange boy was. The Stone Knight yawned._

_"This all seems very boring." She said quite bluntly. "Don't you dream of doing some other thing? We are on an adventure, you see? We are trying to reach the castle of cards over yonder. Care to join us?"_

_"There is no time to dream when I have fish to catch."_

_"Then I shall help you catch the fishes! That way, you don't spend so much time on one activity!"_

_The Stone Knight marched towards the Fishless Fisherman._

_"AH!" As if a magic trick, she had suddenly disappeared and the children turned there heads all sorts of directions in the search of her._

_"Where has she gone?!" The Blind Puppet gasped._

_"She fell into one of the ice holes!" The Cold Pirate cried._

_"Oh dear!" The Colourless Clown ran and kneeled down to look down the hole she had fallen in. Being as she was made out of stone and as heavy as a statue, she sank down, and down, and down. "How will we get her out?! Our arms are too short to reach for her!" Cried the Colourless Clown._

_The Blind Puppet waved his hand to catch the fisherman's attention "Fisherman, please, can we use that fishing rod of yours?!"_

_Unlike everyone else, the fisherman remained unfazed by the tragic occurrence. "But however will I fish without a fishing rod?" He wondered_

_"You won't be able to fish just for a few seconds. Please, we need to help our friend!" Pleaded the Blind Puppet,_

_"Oh, but what if a fish happens to swim by and I miss it? I think I'll just wait here."_

_He continued fishing and the travellers frowned. "Fine then," The Cold Pirate groaned. "I will help the Stone Knight myself!"_

_Taking a deep breath, the Cold Pirate jumped into the hole and the freezing water splashed everywhere._

_And down, down he sank._

_"Oh, I'm afraid he's going to drown trying to save them!" The Colourless Clown pouted. He gently placed the Blind Puppet on to the ground. "I shall help the Cold Pirate!"_

_Before anyone could disagree with his reckless plan, the clown jumped in for his friends._

_And down, down he sank._

_The Blind Puppet, Caged Owl, and Curious Prince cried for their friends who would hopefully come back up soon..._

 

 

*****

*****

*****

 

 

The kids would visit the old man every day for the next week. Whether it be during their washroom breaks, or at night when they were supposed to be fast asleep, the children somehow found time to play in the lopsided house.

All but Diego spent their time playing in the backyard. While laying in the long grass, they listened to the catchy records spinning on the record player. Allison had learned all the lyrics to a song telling her to  _stand by_ someone. Her siblings would often hum along subconsciously.

Diego separated himself by staying inside the lopsided house, drawing a portrait of Grace for when she woke up from her update. It would take a day to draw an outline of the portrait, then another two trying to depict Grace's sweet smile. Diego gave up the next day, planting his face against the kitchen table in defeat.

Seeing this, Klaus sauntered on inside and took a sharpened pencil to draw with. When Diego lifted his head to swat Klaus' hand away from his drawing, he spotted perfectly drawn lips on the blank space riddled with eraser shavings.

The two continued on with painting. Ben decided to lend a helping hand once learning the magic of mixing different colours together. Allison joined in when glitter got involved, and Five only helped when noticing his siblings were colouring over the line.

The children finished their masterpiece on Saturday and ran to the backyard, where the old man sat at his workbench.

Diego, shoving the painting in the old man's face, had a proud smile across his smitten face. His siblings were the same as they stood behind him.

They watched the old man's expression intensely and when he took too long to react, Diego spoke,

"Do you think she'll like it?"

The old man dimples deepened. "Of course she will. You did a great job."

Diego's cheeks became rosy. "We all did." He said, glancing over his shoulders to his siblings. Allison gave him a thumbs up while Five winked at him.

With ten minutes left till half-past-noon, Klaus, Ben, Allison and Diego took turns pushing each other in a wagon by the sidewalk. Five sat in the grass, watching the old man put the finishing touches on his ship replica. His hand was shaking, resulting in some awful details.

Five looked back at their amateur portrait that was left on his lap.

"I don't think mom will appreciate this painting." He admitted suddenly.

"What makes you say that?" Wondered the old man, lowering the ship on to the workbench. "It's a beautiful piece."

"Her eyes haven't opened in days. I don't think she will even remember us by the time she wakes up." 

Five had glanced back up when the old man had gone silent. He was met with his saddening brown eyes, but still with a soft smile. Though, he appeared much like a lost puppy in the rain.

"Your mother may not be able to see right now, but I'm sure she can still hear what's happening around her." Said the old man, voice hopeful. "Try describing how your painting looks, talk about your day no matter how boring it has been. To a parent— the voice of their child is the most powerful instrument. Surely she will feel your love no matter how deep into sleep she is."

Five hadn't known how to respond, with the old man's suddenly unsteady tone and glassy eyes that stared at the painted ship. Yet a smile remained as if acting as a shield to mask whatever mysterious reality he refused to showcase.

"Do you think music would work?" Five asked after an excruciatingly long pause. The old man had blinked out of his daze and focused his gaze back on the boy who sat cross-legged in front of him.

Five went on, "Number Three has taken up singing ever since you let her borrow your vinyls. I wouldn't call her great— I'm sure glass would shatter if she tired for a high note— but she's trying "

The old man chuckled, "I'm sure it will work nonetheless." He picked up a thin paintbrush and signed the ship with the initials _C.K._ on the bottom corner. "Ah, now what do you think?"

He modelled the ship back and forth in front of Five for him to analyze.

"It's nice." Lied Five.

"That's good." The old man placed the ship back down. "My daughter had always dreamt of sailing away someplace else. She didn't quite care where she just loved the ocean. I thank your friend for reminding me to finish it up."'

There was a pattern Five had noticed, perhaps around the third time, the old man mentioned his daughter. His bold eyes had a certain glint. So sparkly and lively. They would squint as his cheeks raised from the endearing smile that would spread across the old man's wrinkled cheeks. A genuine expression reserved only for his deceased loved one.

"Who killed your daughter, anyway?"

Five's question had caught the old man off guard and he had to take a second to proceed it. "No one killed her, she just became very sick." Was his vague answer. He let out a sigh before whispering to himself, "She was so young, she hadn't even experienced a childhood."

"Would you like Number Four to talk to her again?" Offered Five but the old man shook his head.

"That is quite fine. I feel I will be able to talk to her on my own soon."

Five had not the time to question what he meant when the cuckoo clock from inside went off and warned the children that their thirty minutes of free time was up.

* * *

 The kids would often come home with paint-splattered across their hands and faces. Wide smiles also accompanied them, along with the dishevelled state of their uniform. Sometimes, a leaf was found in their hair or a flower under their ears. Today was no different.

They climbed up the vines of the walls up to Five's room. Vanya lifted his window up, and her siblings came tumbling in. Allison tucked a dandelion under Vanya's ear and Five handed her the newest page they received.

On the page, the travellers are slipping and sliding on the icy surface of the frozen ocean. A fisherman is seen in the far distance.

A knock on the door had the kids turn their heads towards the sound. There, they saw Luther peeking his head through the door. He froze with his eyes widened just for a second, perhaps at the fact, all his siblings were hanging out in one room, or because they had been wearing matching flowers and glittered hair. Five and Diego hurried to remove the decorations scattered upon their attire, while the were unaffected by Luther's sudden entrance.

"Meet downstairs. We have a visitor." Said Luther, awkwardly looking off to the side. He left without waiting for them.

They shared a look of confusion. Visitors were a rarity and usually forbidden unless they were of high status. Perhaps the academy was getting interviewed for a magazine again or were to be invited to another fancy Galla where they dressed in handsome tuxes and dresses.

The kids removed their extra accessories but found it difficult to get the dried paint off their arms and hands. They headed downstairs despite their more colourful appearance and gathered by the bottom of the grand staircase.

Sir Reginald had his hands behind his back and Pogo stood beside him. In an unfamiliar and welcoming tone, Sir Reginald allowed whoever was by the entrance into their homey mansion. They stepped in, and it was revealed to be a long-legged lady. Her eyebrows were sharp and upwards, as well as her nose that she would lift when talking. Her hazel hair was kept in a high-bun, and Klaus had an odd urge to boop it.

The kid's eyes went up and down following the lady's pen that rapidly tapped against the clipboard she held. Certainly, if it were to go any faster, her papers would be stained in ink.

Her stiff and frozen lips refused to even twitch when Sir Reginald had spoken. After a moment of what appeared to be casual conversing, the lady approached the children who had lined up in their order.

She greeted them in a sweeter tune than they pictured an uptight lady like her to have. In a different room, she asked them all separately a series of questions;

"What's your name? How old are you? Oh, you've just turned ten! I hope you had an exciting birthday! Do you enjoy school? What's your favourite subject? Do you have your own room? Who takes care of you when you're sick? That quite the scratch, where did you get it from? Is that a bruise on your arm? Mind telling me why your knees are covered in bandages? Oh, it was from a mission? It must've been a fun one, I bet. I thank you for saving the bank the other day. I happen to work near there...."

The discussions ended with Vanya who was flattered to have her first interview ever.

After touring the mansion, the lady said her goodbyes and left in her small, black car. Allison asked their father what magazine or newspaper the interviews would be appearing on. Sir Reginald said it didn't matter and they won't be seeing the articles anywhere. It was probably some indie outlet or something.

Further questions the children had were not answered, being as Sir Reginald's demanded they scrub the colourful gunk off their skin and clothing. They nodded and followed accordingly.

* * *

Allison had been walking through the halls, drying her hair with a towel when Luther suddenly pulled her into his room and locked the door. His hand was placed on her forehead and he remained intense eye contact.

"Are you feeling okay?" Was Luther's greeting. "Are you sick? Do you need medicine? You've been acting so strangely as of late."

Allison blinked at him, puzzled. Ironic was his questions, as he appeared completely frazzled and out of order.

"Strangely? How?" Allison quoted.

He flipped his hand to the backside and felt under her chin. "Well, I've noticed you fold your napkins in odd ways at the dining table, you're always throwing paper airplanes through the hallways, a trail of glitter follows you wherever you go, and you are always humming something under your breath. Now, I've mentioned your symptoms to Pogo but even he's clueless!" In a whispered tone, he went on to say; "I'm worried that whatever you have caught may not be curable..."

Luther let out a breath after his lengthy and frantic tangent. Still, his eyes analyzed Allison's every facial twitch, in search of any sign she had processed anything he had just said.

Allison gave him an amused smile with a raised eyebrow. She was frozen and had absolutely no concern for her troubling statues. It was official; she was a lost cause.

Luther dropped his hand on to her shoulders. "I think we should get dad to check you—"

"Wait, no!" Allison blurted and she held back a laugh. "One, I'm not sick! I've just been—"

She bit the corner of her lip and looked off to the side in thought. As if a light bulb lit up above her head, she sprung out the door. "I'll be right back."

Allison returned holding something behind her back.

"I need you to make me a promise." She held her pinky up in front of Luther.

Luther squinted at her. "What's the promise?"

"Promise me you won't tell Dad or Pogo about what I'm about to tell you."

"But I don't even know what you're about to tell me—"

"Promise me, Number One." Allison's tone was strict.

"But—"

"Promise me." She repeated slower.

Luther thinned his lips and sighed. His pinky hugged Allison's and she smirked.

She revealed a vinyl from behind her back and sauntered towards Luther's record player. She placed it on the turntable and lowered the tone-arm onto the disk. It spun, playing a tune that gave Luther an explainable urge to sway with the beat.

Allison hummed along. "It's nice, isn't it?"

Luther was hesitant to reply truthfully. Instead, he answered with a question, "Where did you get it from?"

Allison explained how she had been sneaking out with the rest of the academy to their neighbour's house. She told him all the weird decorations he had in his crowed living space, and the whimsical scenery painted on the walls of the old man's attic. She showed Luther the other records she got to borrow from the old man, but the one that was currently playing was probably her sibling's favourite...

_When the night has come_

_And the land is dark_

_And the moon is the only light we'll see_

_No, I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid_

_Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

"Do you hear that, mom? Do you hear the music?" Diego gently grazed his thumb against his mother's palm. "It's quiet bu-but if you listen care-carefully, you'll be able to hear it."

Diego sat silently beside Grace and allowed her to listen to the music roaming through the academy. Seated cross-legged in front of them, were Vanya, Five, and Ben. Klaus sat on the opposite end of Grace, hooking his arms with hers. After a moment, he unfolded the painting and showed it to her.

"We painted a portrait. It's of you." Beamed Klaus. "You can tell because she has pretty, blonde hair with curls."

"She has pink cheeks and she's smiling be-be-because we just came back from a mission, and we-we-we got to save a lot of people." Mentioned Diego.

"She's wearing a yellow dress with a lot of flowers on it. Roses and tulips— like what you would plant in your garden in the greenhouse." Ben added.

"She has blue sparkly eyes that kind of remind me of the ocean." Said Five.

"Seven kids are playing behind her." Explained Vanya. "They are wearing the academy's uniform and they are forming a heart with their fingers. They all love her very much."

Grace had no reply. They hadn't expected one anyway. Five cleared his throat and scooted himself closer to their mother.

"Since you like telling us stories, I figured it's only fair we tell you one." He shuffled the pages in his hand, looking for the first chapter.

_Oh, stand now by me, stand by me, stand by me_

_Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me_

_Oh stand by me, won't you stand by me_

Once the song ended, Allison reset it and allowed it to repeat. She spread the rest of her records on the floor and offered Luther to pick one to play next. She waited for a response but he simply stood still in his spot, arms crossed and eyes dropping the floor.

"I can't have you and the others leaving the house anymore."

Allison's smile dropped at his answer.

"This old man— we have no idea who he is." Continued Luther. "We have no idea what his history is or motives. For all we know, he just wants you for your abilities."

"That's not true." Allison asserted, shaking her head.

"But what if it is?" Challenged Luther. "What if he's just a villain in disguise? We've seen it so many times before, its impossible to trust anyone outside of the academy."

"So you just expect us to stay here forever?" Just the thought had her shudder, and grieve, and rigid like stone. Simply stepping on the sidewalks was as much of an adventure as it was to visit the old man. To give that up was unthinkable.

"I just don't want you guys to get hurt— I don't want you to get hurt." Luther clarified voice softened. Though he thought himself as the protector of all his siblings, he'd never admit out loud that Allison was who he thought to be the most special. It hurt when she didn't seem to respond in a more joyous way by his demonstration of care.

"I won't tell Dad or Pogo what you guys have been doing," he assured but still Allison folded her arms with furrowed eyebrows. "but if you go against my demands, then I might just have to break our promise."

"No, that's so unfair!" She blurted, stomping her foot firmly on the floor.

"Number Three..."

"Just come with us when we visit him! Then you'll see there's nothing to worry about!"

"I can't do that, Number Three..."

"Yes, you can!" She looked off to the side and hesitated to go on, "I... I heard a rumour—"

The two jumped back when the door came flying open. Sir Reginald stood tall, narrowing his eyes down at the tiny children. Behind him was the rest of the academy with their heads bowed down, cheeks wet with tears.

Allison hurried to stop the vinyl from spinning.

* * *

The records, which Sir Reginald's described as tasteless and vial, had been tossed into the dumpster by their mansion. Apparently, he had been listening closely to the music as well. Heading to the source of the sound, he found the kids crowding around Grace instead of training. There, he took the pages out of Fives possession. What he did to them was a mystery, or perhaps the kids purposely ignored the sound of a shredder buzzing in the distance.

All but Vanya trained in the gym for the whole day with no breaks in between. Every hour, Sir Reginald would take one of the kids and have them do their individual. They would return to the gym with a distant look in their eyes.

It was twelve o'clock at night.

With sweat soaking their uniform, dried blood upon their nose, legs and arms practically limp and unresponsive, the kids were instructed to go to the classroom to keep their attention on their heavy textbooks. Vanya had been sitting there for the entirety of their training.

"The world is depending on your extraordinary abilities yet you choose to waste it on idiotic ventures. I forbid you to leave this room until you learn how to grow up."

Sir Reginald was off to his study room, leaving a sleep-deprived Pogo to keep them company.

Pogo left for a washroom break but probably fell asleep in there.

It was quiet. Not even the shuffling of papers could be heard, or the turning of pages.

Klaus' habit of tapping his pen was replaced with suppressed sobbing. His eyes were large and strained, skin pale and colourless. Duct tape stopped the blood flowing through his legs, as layers upon layers wrapped around his knees to keep his socks from falling to his ankles.

His pen rolled off the table and Ben flinched at the gentle sound. He let out a squeal and buried his head in his coat, shielding himself from the lighting of the classroom. Now in the dark, he allowed a few tears to dampen his textbook.

Diego rolled his eyes at his brother's poor attempts in concealing his cries, despite trying to do the same. He turned and threw a scrunched paper at Ben's head to get him to shut up, but that only made him sniffle louder.

Allison would have called Diego heartless if her eyes weren't staring off into nothingness. Her palms were planted on her desk while her legs hung above the floors emotionless, much like a statue.

Five snapped his pencil. Vanya flinched at the sound.

"Growing up sucks."

His muttering managed to get Klaus to let out a dry scoff and Luther winced at his foul language.

"Th-This is all Three's fault." Murmured Diego and she glared at him. "If yuh-you would've just shut up your stupid mu-mu-music, we wouldn't be here."

For the first time in hours, Allison made an effort to move and folded her arms. "It's not stupid, stupid. The old man gave it to me—"

"He's stupid too."

Klaus gasped, offended on behalf of the old man. "No, he's not!"

"He's probably a danger to us, as well," Luther added on, gaze focused on the textbook.

Diego, suddenly switching teams, snapped his neck at Luther who was seated beside him. "Oh, shu-shut up, you don't even know him!"

"I know he's a threat to this academy."

"Threat my ass, he can barely hold up a paintbrush." Muttered Five.

"Oh my God," Ben sudden whipped his head and his coat still hung on him. "What are we going to tell him about his stories? They're gone! Dad took them from us! Do you think the old man will get mad?"

The room was silent again. Klaus flipped through his notebook that mostly consisted of doodles and found a blank page near the end.

"I can recreate the drawings I think. He won't notice a thing." Suggested Klaus, already beginning his sketch of the Curious Prince.

" _Okay_ ," Ben said warily. "but how about the story itself?"

Five picked the top half of his pencil and began writing in his own book. "I remember it."

"Word by word?" Asked Ben.

And Five shrugged. "Give or take."

Allison got up from her seat and dragged a chair beside Five. "I'll help."

Ben did the same, "Me too."

And Diego and Vanya began drawing the illustration for the second page and third page.

Luther watched from his seat, completely in awe as his siblings worked together for what may have been the first time ever, outside of fighting crime. How quickly they went from despising each other to being huddled together seemed like a dream he had to knock himself out of.

"Would you like to help as well, Number One?" Asked Five, not looking up from his rapid-speed writing.

Diego pretended to gag and Allison punched his arm.

"I uh," Luther hesitated and cleared his throat. "I don't know anything about the story."

"We can tell it to you." Offered Vanya with a kind smile. She gestured him to sit beside her, something Luther would have never done if the roles were reversed.

Often had he purposely excluded Vanya for the single reason that she did was not considered apart of the academy by their father. She was too fragile to fight and too distant to talk to. Yet here she was, inviting Luther to sit beside her. An action so simple but had made him feel an unexplainable warmth in the pit of his stomach.

When he dragged his seat next to her, Klaus handed him a coloured pencil for him to doodle with. Luther just looked at the tool with a clueless expression, as if he hadn't seen anything like it before.

"Like this," Klaus stroked his own pencil crayon on his sheet of paper, creating a line of colour across the once black page.

Luther slowly followed along. He was quite messy with his crayon but the others did not bother to mention it. Though he was much aware of his lack of skill in the crafts department, and he did not see the purpose of such an activity.

But as he glanced around to his siblings, he allowed his tense shoulders to ease. He was with his family, perhaps that was the purpose.

"It's a rather long story, I'll admit. But I'll tell it anyway." Vanya began, "Once there was a Curious Prince, a Caged Owl, a Stone Knight, a Colourless Clown, a Blind Puppet, a Cold Pirate, and a Fishless Fisherman..."

 

 

*****

*****

*****

 

 

_The travellers sank down, and down, and down until they reached the bottom of the dark ocean. It was empty, with not a single fish to be found. No wonder the Fishless Fisherman is having such a hard time fishing. They are simply nonexistent in this ocean!_

_An orange light shining from a giant and smooth clam had distracted the travellers from swimming back up the ocean. They swam to the clam, and it chomped its mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. For the few seconds, it had its mouth opened, a crab could be seen inside. He was a sleeping crab, but still, he wore his glasses and held a heavy treasure chest that weighed his grubby claws down. A golden crown laid nicely upon his head._

_The Colourless Clown grabbed a sunken stick and stuck it in the clam's mouth for it to remain open._

_The crab's eyes fluttered opened, surprised to see the children that float before him._

_"What is it that you need?" Asked the crab in a ridiculously fake British accent._

_"We'd like to reach the surface." Said the Stone Knight._

_"It's a rather far swim." The crab's accent had switched to western and was as bad as his British accent._

_"Maybe you could help us?" Asked the Cold Pirate._

_"I'm not sure how." The crab was now Scottish._

_"Are you stuck here too?" Questioned the Stone Knight._

_"No, no, no, I like it here." He sounded Irish now._

_"How long have you been down here?" Was the Stone Knights the next question._

_"Thousands and thousands of years."_

_"It looks like that treasure chest of yours is weighing you down." Stated the Stone Knight. "Perhaps if you let it go, you will float up to the surface and be free?"_

_"That's a rather difficult task to achieve." Said the crab, back to his British accent. "This treasure chest means too much to me, it holds so many memories that I am afraid I will lose. It may seem I'm miserable, but I'd be even more miserable without. I'm sure the surface is beautiful— wondrous, even. But down here is where I choose to stay."_

_A rather confusing response that had the children look at the crab with a look of wonder. They have seen many odd things and beings on their adventure yet the crab may be the most peculiar. It was as if this old and dusty item defined who he was. But how could that yet be when he could not even pick an accent to stick with?_

_To allow a tiny item or thing to define who he was, was odd indeed._

_Upon the surface, the Curious Prince, Caged Owl, and Blind Puppet looked down the hole their friends have fallen into._

_"I think I should go down there as well." Spoke the Curious Prince, both fearful yet determined._

_"Down that ice hole? It's too risky, we must find some other way to help them." The Caged Owl advised. She looked over to the Fishless Fisherman, still focused on fishing fish. "Please help us, we may never see our friends again."_

_The Fishless Fisherman blinked and it was as if he was snapped out of a spell. A tear-filled with no emotion crawled down his rosy cheeks._

_"That is upsetting to hear." He admitted. "I've never lost a friend before, nor have I ever had one to lose."_

_This made the traveller's heart sink, and lips pout._

_"We can be your friend." Said the Caged Owl._

_"And you can join us on our adventure." Said the Curious Prince._

_"We've had much fun so far. I'm sure we would have even more of you joined us." Said the Blind Puppet._

_The Fishless Fisherman did not smile, but his eyes did twinkle with a certain delight. "I shall take you up on that offer. Allow me to fish for your friends."_

_He looked back down at the hole he sat by and lowered his bobber deeper into the waters. He pulled the Colourless Clown up first, and he had been hooked by his pants._

_Then came the Cold Pirate who was pulled out by his hand that was a hook._

_Then came the Stone Knight, who was the most difficult to fish for, but her belt that was supposed to carry her sword had been caught on his bobber._

_With a sigh of relief, they thanked the Fishless Fisherman and welcomed them to the gang with open arms._

_Careful where they stepped, the travellers headed towards the forest and finally, warm weather greeted their icy skin._

_In the sky, The witches cackled as they played around the vibrant orange moon. And far from where they stood, the castle of cards hovered over them, awaiting their visit. Finally, their stolen items were to be retrieved._

_***** _

_***** _

_***** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we in the final stretch now boooyyzzz


	8. The Crab King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh snap I'm back on my bullshit 
> 
> I finished writing the last three chapters though I'm sure they're riddled with mistakes. 
> 
> I'll upload the next chapter on Sunday then have the last chapter uploaded on Wednesday. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_To allow a tiny item or thing to define who he was, was odd indeed._

 

 

*  
*  
*

 

 

Crabs were weird creatures, both in how they appeared and how they behaved. They emerged from the oceans onto burning sand with their beady eyes staring wherever, and their five pairs of dancing legs. The hue of their hard exterior differed from blue to red— a noticeable contrast similar to that of night and day, or fire and ice. The crustaceans were threatening with those tight claws of theirs. Greedy they were, pinching at everything that poked at them.

Perhaps it was unfair to think so negatively of such creatures. They did more than just grab at things— they communicated by drumming or waving their pincers in the air as well. What even do they say to one another? Do they have heated arguments about the political state of the aquatic food chain? Or perhaps they discuss the dwindling numbers of their brothers and sisters, once seen crawling around in their habitat, then in an instant they were gone but replaced quickly after.

Yes, a conversation between crabs was much cuter than having its claws stuck on your finger with a fiery yet respectable determination of not letting go.

Less painful, the _young boy_ who sat by the shore would add.

The young boy found himself in this predicament often except rather than regular adult claws, he had only gotten attacked by a baby— perhaps the size of half his palm. It stuck on his finger like a clothespin and swung side to side as if performing a circus act.

A hilarious visual but It did hurt, don't be mistaken. And he cried— cried salty streams down his cheeks. No one tended him, not even his father who stood idly by the edge of the dock, awaiting a fish to bite at his bait. Glass bottles surrounded him, both empty and full of a mystery beverage the young boy was not allowed to try. He wasn't interested in doing so anyway... it reeked.

The young boy was no good at fishing, otherwise, he would join his father upon the docks. However, the last he tried to help him, the rod had somehow ended up consumed by the waves. He was brought to the beach every day anyway when no one was home to take care of him.

For the young boy, there was not much to do on the beach. He considered playing in the sand, but every castle he built was washed out by the waves. He considered swimming in shores, but he would always almost drown. He considered playing tag with friends, but he had no friends to play tag with. No one cared to be his friend, he blended into the background of the classroom so well. A nameless figure with a faceless body to go with it.

So without a mate, without athletic ability, and without craftsmanship, he watched the crabs and attempted to tame them somehow. Of course, that always went poorly, like most things he tried to do.

The young boy pulled the crab off his finger without a lesson to be learned as he continued to poke at the silly creatures.

*  
*  
*

When the young boy became a _young man_ , he had returned from the Vietnam war, scars deep and noticeable. Already he had moved out of his father's house and into his own. He was always told by his father, his aunts, his uncles, his teacher, and his librarian that it was impossible to live on his own with the horrifyingly tiny size of his brain. Yet here the young man was, settling in a small, and square, and grey, and house. The neighbourhood was spacious, meaning there was nothing but green fields and maybe a bakery if he travelled far enough.

Affording such a place took working at a woods shop. He was only allowed to serve as the cash register. To give him any task requiring creativity was to risk burning the whole store down.

A bicycle took him to work every day. He was qualified to drive but it was preferable for everyone on the roads if he avoided controlling the wheel. He wasn't great at riding a bicycle either and he'd crash into walkers strolling the sidewalks.

Though seen as a weakness, his lack of coordination was one thing he was grateful for.

Right before crashing for the fourth time in ten minutes, he met glowing, green eyes that crinkled from a distance. Her freckles scattered her features like an abstract painting. An orange sundress covered in the most gorgeous flower pattern flowed with the light breeze. The straw hat she wore flew off as the front wheels of the young man's bicycle ran over her foot. She crouched down in pain, with the bicycle landing beside her. She yelled at the young man with the boldness and confidence of a drill sergeant he once knew. Her slipper came flying towards the young man as he tried to lend a helping hand.

It was at that moment the young man knew, It was love at first sight.

*  
*  
*

Melissa and the young man would go on their first date in a little coffee shop that they both separately got lost getting to. It didn't really matter in the end as they both were fashionably late yet arrived at the same time.

The young man kept quiet as Melissa rambled on about whatever it was she talked about for three hours long. He was never much of a talker anyway, and it was treated just listening to her.

When the cafe was closing, they ended up under a giant willow tree at a quiet park. Feeling the ticklish and emerald grass beneath their bare feet, they danced hand-in-hand to the faint instrumentals coming from afar. The young man was never much of a dancer, but Mellisa had no problem in leading.

Why she decided to take the young man for another date, then another date, then another was beyond him. She was so special and unique compared to most, and he was as plain as one could possibly get. Yet Melissa chose him and for once, the young man felt special.

*  
*  
*

Melissa and the young man would get married by the beach shore two years after meeting.

The young man was no longer just a young man, but a loving _husband_ as well.

Melissa had this sort of magic effect on people, and as it turned out, houses as well. The husband's grey-block he called a house transformed into something much more whimsical the moment Melissa walked in.

Walls were painted, odd antiques were placed around the house, new floors were built and in those new floors were even more odd antiques serving no real reason other than it "looking pretty" or having some sort of "sentimental value".

The humble house was getting crowded, but not crowded enough.

*  
*  
*

The husband did not think himself to be ready to raise a child. He could barely use a plunger and now he was expected to change the diapers of a little, delicate human. He had little to no experience of taking care of infants, and the one time he did he ended up scaring the poor child with his attempt in making a funny face. How could he be a good father if he could not even make a child who has yet to develop a comedic pallet, laugh?

Lisa was born. The husband held her in his arms for the first time and they both cried. The second time he picked her up, she cracked a smile.

He was no longer just a husband. He was a _father_.

*  
*  
*

Lisa carried a strong resemblance to her mother both in looks and talents, thank God for that. They both had curly orange hair that bounced when walking. They snorted when they laughed and covered their mouths when embarrassed. They painted beautiful paintings on canvas'. They baked fluffy cakes and hosted tea parties in the attic. They dressed up in silly costumes and put on plays with no audience. They crafted airplanes and boats and hats for the neighbours to keep. They took photos and framed every memory on the wall.

The father would retell stories of Winnie The Pooh to Lisa at night, but she always falls asleep halfway through.

That was okay. He didn't need attention from her. The father, though not quite influential in the kid's life, was quite proud of who she was turning out to be. And simply watching her grow up was a delightful sight to behold.

*  
*  
*

Lately, Melissa had been slowing down in her pace walking up and down the stairs. The wide smile she wore when greeting everyone a good-morning appeared laboured— almost painful some days. She'd insist it was nothing, but the pale replacing her once tan skin and the grey in her eyes had told the father otherwise.

They'd plan to visit the doctors in two days' time, but with her temperature rising each hour, their plans changed.

The father's bike wasn't fast enough, so they used the car.

He was never good at driving.

After taking a turn in an intersection, Melissa's fever would be the least of their problems.

*  
*  
*

When Melissa had been stuck in the hospital for two months, Lisa stopped her habit of painting pictures. What replaced it was waiting by the mailbox outside to see if her mother would return.

The father would call his daughter in for lunch and dinner and that was about all the time they spent with each other. It was not like he did not want to be with her, she was just very busy sitting outside. It's best not to disturb her

It wasn't until Lisa came running in, curls flat and soaked from the rain, hiding something in her coat. When asked what it was, they heard a meow. It was a white and orange kitten. After a long debate, she'd name her Tigger.

Tigger reignited Lisa's passion for art as she would just draw cats all the time. She made plenty, enough to make a book, which she'd show to her mother during hospital visits. Melissa would never open her eyes to look at them, nor would she even give a smile. It didn't matter. Lisa knew she was listening.

Three weeks later, Melissa would sleep forever.

*  
*  
*

Lisa found her father sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at nothing. He fiddled with the label of an unopened bottle for awhile. He reached for the cap but lowered his hand right after. He tried again. He twisted it. The cap fell off. He pushed the bottle aside and shook his head, mumbling to himself.

Lisa would make him toast and coffee when he had forgotten to eat breakfast. She'd then take him on a walk to the local grocery to buy more food.

They'd return back home, Lisa fumbling the keys all sorts of directions before finally hearing the click. She'd tuck her father in when he was too sleepy to walk, then she would stitch his jacket back together when it had become too tethered with holes.

This routine would repeat itself for a week, until Tuesday.

The father was again, seated by the kitchen table. He spotted Lisa in the corner of his eye. He gestured her to come closer and he sat her up on his lap. They sat in silence for a while on their black clothing. Flowers filled most of their living space now, along with condolence cards.

The two stared out the window where the rain subsided and all was left was the parting of grey clouds.

The father whispered a question into Lisa's ear and she looked up at him with her bold green eyes, shining with a rare innocence and purity. Curiosity struck and she nodded.

They went fishing. It was not the same spot from when the father was a young boy, nor was it any similar. No docks, no sand, not even a single crab crawling its way out of the deep ocean grounds.

The duo sat on rough stones and pebbles. The water rippled into dozens of rings as the bobber landed. After a few moments, everything was steady, and silent with only the light breeze to force any sort of movement. Yet, no matter how calm the ocean was, and no matter how scrumptious the bait may be, no fish came to play and the father and daughter duo left with nothing. It was all quite boring.

In the car, they sat in the familiar silence. Was it comforting? Not exactly. Was it tense? Not that either. It was mundane.

From there on or, they made a habit of fishing. Every Friday, they ventured off to the calm oceans and catch nothing.

*  
*  
*

Lisa was always like her mother, both in the way she looked, sounded, acted, and everything else. It was only inevitable she would get sick just like her.

It began with what they thought was a simple fever, then her hands began to shake, then the father would find her laying on the bathroom floor with a bloody gash on her forehead.

She was eight-years-old when they took their last fishing trip. Still, they had yet to catch anything but she seemed to enjoy her time seated in the wheelchair, staring off to the far distance. She was probably dreaming of something other than reality.

" _Id like to sail away someday_." She said, barely audible.

" _Where would you sail?_ " Asked the father.

" _Anywhere, really. Maybe we could find mom somewhere out there. I still believe she is just lost._ "

The father wished he was as hopeful as the child. Even when all the colour in her skin had completely drained, still she managed to muster a soft smile. Still she was filled with curiosity, and courage, and imagination, and love, and dreams.

Still, she was a kid and what a wonderful thing to be. Even if she did not realize it, the experiences she will have as a child will be unlike any other. Growing up is the same and she was just beginning to do just that. Why did it have to end now?

" _Then we shall build a boat for your adventure._ " Concluded the father.

Lisa had looked at him with an odd look. She smiled nonetheless, but still confused she was by her father's sudden enthusiasm.

And they did. They built a small boat out of popsicle sticks. It wasn't sturdy, nor was it painted pretty yet Lisa thought it to be perfect and enough for her adventure.

Lisa would earn freedom and sail away to find her mother two months later.

Without her, the father had just become an _old man_.

*  
*  
*

Though he was alone, the house was never silent.

The old man would keep his family's spirits alive by sitting in the backyard listening to the records his wife would always play and dance to. He'd paint canvas' with odd colours and stuck them around the house no matter how ugly they turned out. He'd bake cakes only for them to remain a liquid, then he'd upgrade to cinnamon rolls only to turn them into coal.

He began writing his own story, like what his daughter had done for her mother. Except he had no one to tell it to but Tigger who usually slept through the entirety of the story. Perhaps it was just too boring? Or too lengthy? Or too confusing? He'd never know, the cat never spoke back.

He would soon find someone who did. Or rather, that someone found him.

*  
*  
*

He was grateful to have Five falling from the sky and into his pile of leaves. If the kid hadn't broken into his house, then the old man wouldn't have someone to critique his work. The timing couldn't have been better. The old man felt his legs were weakening and his head was always in an odd daze. It'd be soon he would meet up with his family once more.

And what an odd yet splendid boy Five was. Very stoic in his expressions, very confident in his stride. It was as if he was a grown businessman trapped in a young boy's body. That whole image had scrapped once he revealed he was a superhero. Five's telling of stories of the chaotic missions must take quite the imagination.

Though Five played pretend like any normal kid would, he was also damaged. He and his siblings. Every time they'd visit, it seemed they had gained a new scar. They blamed it on their fake missions or blamed it on each other. The old man blamed it on the father who only seemed to be encouraging their roughhousing.

Their mother was sick, and whoever this Pogo was seemed to not have the power the father had.

Perhaps the old man was thinking too deep into the situation.

But then again...

No chance would he let another kid lose their childhood.

So he called who he needed to call.

*  
*  
*

He watched from his window as a black car parked by the gates of the children's house. A lady would walk up to the front and be lead inside. The lady would come out of the house in two hours' time, and the old man stood by his mailbox waving at the lady. She simply nodded at him and got in her car. Before she could drive off, the old man knocked his knuckles lightly against the glass. She rolled her window down only an inch.

" _So, what do you think?_ " The old man began. When the lady was with a confused expression, the old went on, " _I was the one who made the report._ " 

" _I've just finished inspecting the place, I can't say much._ " She admitted with a shrug. " _Though, do feel assured, I am quite certain there's nothing to be worried about. These kids are different. They're extraordinary. Reginald Hargreeves trains them accordingly, and maybe he is a little harsh in his methods but that's only for the good of our city. These kids— they can handle it. They can handle anything. This is what they were born to do_."

Rather confused was the old man. He agreed, they were special kids, " _But they're still kids_."

" _Extraordinary kids. There's a difference_." She said with a smitten smirk. She drove off after that.

Yes, they were extraordinary kids but what difference did that make?

*  
*  
*

Halloween had approached and It had been two weeks since he had seen the children. Worrisome it was to not even see them step outside their doors to sit by their steps.

He thought to call that lady with the clipboard again but she was of no use the last time. Perhaps they'd send someone else? Someone more sympathetic and understanding of the situation? Someone who'd actually do their job.

He picked up his phone and dialled the number.

He had no control over his shaky fingers as he pressed the numbers.

He'd dial the phone number wrong two times before his vision went blurry even with his reading glasses on.

Oh.

So It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like focusing too much on OC's yet here I am writing a whole chapter dedicated to OC's. I just felt it was needed for the story. I hope I made it interesting enough to read lol. The next chapter will be jam packed to the BRIM with that Hargreeves content tho


	9. The Free Bird

It was four years ago when the Hargreeves children noticed a repetitive occurrence that happened only on October thirty-first. Random knocks on the Academy gates were usual but on this certain day, the number of disturbances increased significantly. And from out the attic window, they would see groups of children roaming the streets wearing odd uniforms and holding hefty bags of money.

It would be into the second hour of staring out the window that the Hargreeves children realized, no, those weren't bags of currency but bags of candies and sweets.

It was not until the Hargreeves children turned seven-years-old, they would become brave enough to ask Sir Reginald's if they could participate in October-Thirty-First. Shockingly, Sir Reginald's said yes, but they were only allowed out for half-an-hour with the condition that they kept only three chocolates they collected. Despite the limit, It turned out to be the best thirty-minutes of their lives

They soon learned this single night event to be called, Halloween. They participated every year from there on out.

That was until today.

There was just a minor inconvenience; the city was under attack. Multiple museums across the tristate area were being held at gunpoint. A calculated attack? Perhaps so, but it was nothing the Umbrella Academy couldn't handle.

Vanya stood by the entrance with Pogo as the Academy marched out with there arms crossed in annoyance. They shuffled into the limo, glaring jealously at the kids in costumes that have already begun their candy-collecting-spree.

The vehicle disappeared into the streets and Vanya waved them goodbye. She took a moment to watch the kids skipping down the sidewalks in their witch hats and princess tiaras. They ventured off to the lopsided house and knocked. No one answered.

Vanya cocked her head to the side in wonder. Perhaps the old man was out for today?

Vanya was about to return inside the mansion until she noticed a little boy with rosy cheeks by the Academy gates. He wore an all-black and grey costume with a bat symbol on his chest. His wide eyes stared at Vanya in complete awe.

Vanya acknowledged him with a wave.

"Are you from the Umbrella Academy?" He asked needlessly loud.

Timidly, she nodded in response.

The boy's face lit up with excitement at her inaudible confirmation and Vanya's face flushed with the attention.

"What number are you, again?" He asked, stepping closer to the gate.

"Seven." She answered.

The boy gasped. "That's so cooool..." but then his nose scrunched. "Wait, there's a Number Seven? Since when?"

She shrugged her shoulders weakly and now was flushing red from embarrassment. "I was here from the start. Though, I am not special like my siblings."

"You don't have powers?"

She shook her head.

"Well, that sucks."

She thinned her lips at his unneeded comment.

"I mean, you're wearing the uniform, so maybe you are a little special?"

Vanya's heart beat a little quicker at the little boy's words, even though he did not sound sure of himself. To be called special felt so foreign. She would have liked to take the compliment, though she knew she was not worth it.

In the distance, a lady shrieked for someone named Julian and the little boy jumped. Flustered, he said his goodbyes and left.

Vanya said the same and headed back inside.

* * *

Five had left crayons and paper under his bed for Vanya to use. For the past few weeks, the kids spent any free time they had trying to recreate the old man's story. The drawing of some of the characters was slightly off, along with the settings but Klaus refused to correct it claiming the imperfections were a stylistic choice.

All Vanya had left to colour was the last page they received; it being, a winter scenery. She organized all six pages in order and bind them together with yarn that Grace left in the kitchen cupboards. With nothing else to do, Vanya remained seated at the table and began rereading the pages.

Ten minutes later, she reached the last page. She turned back to the first page and read it again.

Unsatisfactory it was knowing they hadn't received an ending to the story yet. The Hargreeves children hadn't been able to visit the old man since they got caught by Sir Reginald's, and they feared he'd forget about them. But to leave the mansion without being seen was impossible, Sir Reginald was still very much upset at their lack of growing up. Perhaps Five would be brave to retrieve the last page from the old man? He seemed to be taking Sir Reginald's angered warnings with a grain of salt as of late.

Vanya shook the thought out of her head. It would be too risky for him to do so. The last thing she'd want was for him to cause a disturbance for her sake.

She reached the end of the book again.

Vanya turned back to the beginning to read it once more. She kicked her legs back and forth to the sound of the leaking kitchen faucet. The squeak of her chair from only the slightest movement sung along. She drummed her fingers against the hardwood table and hummed softly to the rhythm.

Once again, she flipped to the last page.

The swing of the kitchen door had brought Vanya's gaze up and she gave a small smile to Pogo who walked in. In his hand, he held a white blanket. In his other hand was an empty weaved basket meant to store dirty laundry.

She asked if he needed any help with chores but Pogo replied with a polite no. He approached her and laid the sheet flat on the table. Curiously, Vanya kneeled on her chair to get a better look at what he was displaying. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking at; It was just a blanket with two holes in them.

"With your siblings out and the Academy empty, I can only imagine how bored you must be." Said Pogo.

It was the usual scene, and even if Vanya's siblings were home she would usually be alone anyway. Still, she nodded in agreement.

"I thought it be a good idea to participate in the festivities this year." He concluded and Vanya's smile widened.

* * *

Vanya held Pogo's hand as they pushed opened the gates of the academy. Her first steps into the outside world was her tripping on her lengthy costume.

Pogo had Vanya draped in the white blanket and it turned out the two holes were for her eyes to peer out of. It wasn't the most exciting costume, nor was it the most functional but Vanya seemed to be enjoying herself as she lightly tugged Pogo deeper into the streets.

Vanya had been so used to the sound of the creaky floorboards of the academy, that the crunching of leaves underneath her feet was practically music to her ears. She breathed in the smell of fresh air from the rain that had passed. As the wind blew, the blanket flapped behind her like a cape, or wings of a bird.

Despite her eagerness, Vanya clammed up when reaching the steps of their first house. She was brave enough to knock on the door but once it opened she hid behind Pogo and allowed him to collect the candy for her. The next house she did the same, then the next, then the next, until Pogo had grown tired of explaining that he was not in costume and he was indeed in fact, a talking ape. Luckily, Vanya had seen Pogo collect candy enough times to get the gist of it and do it by herself.

By sunrise, she would fill up her entire laundry basket to the brim. On the bottom was where she kept the storybook.

Vanya sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl, as she dug through the treats. She wasn't much of a candy person nor a chocolate person, but her siblings were. With the help of Pogo, Vanya separated what she collected into six piles. They gave Luther mostly Hershey chocolate bars, with a few pieces of caramel. Diego had Smarties and Reese's Cups. Allison always enjoyed lollipops and Jolly Ranchers since they lasted longer. Klaus liked Skittles and anything sour. Five was addicted to Stuffed Puffs, and no one liked licorice candy expect Ben.

All were perfectly distributed. Vanya only hoped they wouldn't get upset at her for going trick-or-treating without them.

She and Pogo returned the piles into the basket and headed back to the mansion. Once at the gates, she hesitantly turned her head to look at the lopsided house staring down at them.

She had been walking around the neighbourhood for a while now. It was possible for the old man to have returned while she was gone.

Vanya tugged lightly on Pogo's sleeve. He paused from unlocking the gates to focus his attention on her.

She asked, "Pogo, if it's not any bother, may we visit one more house?" 

"If it's not too far. Your father may be returning soon."

Pogo's eyes followed as Vanya pointed at the lopsided house in front of them. He nodded. "Very well."

They headed towards the lopsided house and climbed the porch stairs. Vanya knocked on the door lightly.

No answer.

She knocked again, harder this time.

No answer.

She knocked once more for good measures.

There was a creak but still no answer.

She wasn't expecting much anyway.

As Pogo and Vanya turned on their heels to leave, they could hear sirens from a distance. When they made it back to the gates of the academy, flashing blue and red lights greeted the empty streets of their neighbourhood. They parked next to the lopsided house and an emergency team emerged out of the back doors of the ambulance.

Despite the thunderous rain returning, people gathered around holding their umbrellas high. Vanya hesitantly took a step towards the crowd but was stopped by Pogo who laid a hand on her shoulder,

"I think it wise to just stay by my side." He advised her, voice steady.

"But—" she nervously brushed her fingers through her hair. "my siblings would want to know what happened to him."

"Him?" Pogo repeated slowly, concern growing in his tone. "Who's him?"

Vanya frowned and nervously bit at the bottom corner of her lips. "I'm worried if I say anything, I will get my siblings in trouble."

"You would only have to worry if it's something bad. Is it something bad, Number Seven?"

"He's an old man who likes to write and paint. That's all I think I should say."

Pogo analyzed the soft look in her eyes. She was always obedient. To see her struggle with following orders was something quite complex and should have alerted Pogo even more.

However, with a sigh, Pogo nodded and Vanya grew comfort when he had no further questions. "Go on, then."

She smiled at him before joining the onlookers. Using her costume as a hood, she pushed herself to the front of the crowd. The door she had been knocking on was now busted open. Loud meowing could be heard from inside, along with the faint instrumentals of a spinning record. The crowd whispered curious questions to one another but would never get a straight answer. Along with the wondering, some rumours spread from person to person.

_"Ah, what a shame. But he is the reason for his wife's death, you know?"_

_"Don't say that the car crash was an accident."_

_"I'm still not so convinced that it was. And his daughter? Who knows what really happened to her..."_

Vanya's eyes wandered unsurely at the discomforting conversation. About to turn and run back to Pogo, paramedics carried the old man on a stretcher. Vanya grip tightened on her basket at the worrisome sight.

He had the curly hair her siblings always described him to have, and the wrinkled face. He wore glasses that slipped to the bridge of his nose, and oddly enough, he wore a smile

The old man was put into the ambulance and they took off. The crowd dispersed, still mumbling to one another. Vanya remained in her spot with a worried look, staring up at the lopsided house.

Hurriedly, she dropped her basket on to the ground, dug to the bottom, and took out the storybook.

First, there was the Curious Prince

Then there was the Stone Knight

Who then met The Colourless Clown

Who introduced them to the Blind Puppet

And was greeted by the Cold Pirate

Who became friends with the Fishless Fisherman.

But what was next?

Vanya looked over to Pogo who was calling her to come inside. The sound of the ambulance was not too far away. She closed her eyes tightly and held the book close to her chest.

It hurt to ignore Pogo's calls, but she'd apologize to him later.

She chased the sound of the ambulance.

She had to know what happened next.

* * *

The kids of the Umbrella Academy were prepared for anything. Really, they were. Sir Reginald once had them travel through the sewers when they complained about the traffic coming back home. With the things they've seen, heard, and smelled down in the dim and hollow tunnels of the undergrounds, they were unfazed by most things.

However, they did not quite expect the city to have as many museums as it did.

For two hours, the Umbrella Academy drove back and forth between streets, trying to keep up with every break-in that was occurring. From all the swerving and hard brakes from stoplights, Ben kept his face buried in his knees in an attempt to keep his motion sickness at a minimum. It didn't work.

When they arrived, the kids ran up the stairs of the seventeenth museum they've visited today and left Ben outside beside a tree where he hunched behind.

Stumbling through the revolving doors, the kids gathered together and got in a powerful stance— chest puffed, fists on hips, and chin held high.

"Do not fret!" Announced Luther to the cowering civilians hiding behind statues of extinct animals and display cases of giant rocks. "The Umbrella Academy is here—"

Gunshots interrupted his introduction followed by the screaming of the hostages. Picking at his ear, Luther nodded at his siblings and they scattered the area.

Diego and Luther stayed on the first floor where they fought eight gunmen who were pretty awful at aiming and dodging. They had shot at the aquarium that stretched from the ground to the ceiling. The bullet cracked the glass and water seeped through and onto the marble floors.

Klaus and Allison headed to the second floor which consisted mostly of long hallways with a collection of paintings displayed on the walls. They twisted the necks of six masked men who were busy stuffing their duffle bags with oil paintings.

Five scouted the third floor but was surprised and somewhat disappointed having not been attacked by dangerous men trying desperately to appear cool with their big boy weapons and coordinated uniforms.

He had stepped into a colourful playroom, with foam pats designed to look like puzzle pieces. Much like the old man's attic, scattered around the floors were stuffed toys and plush animals. Glass panels surrounded the colourful playing quarters and Five looked through them seeing Ben still puking out his guts outside. News reporters and police cars surrounded the area as well.

A gentle squeaking noise had Five turn around and hold his fists up, ready to attack. Though all he saw was a little girl sitting in a wagon. She appeared to be around two-years-old, with two frizzy pigtails high on her head. She wore a pink cat onesie, probably for Halloween. In her hand, she held a toy giraffe drenched in a mystery substance that Five assumed was spit.

Five crouched and slowly approached the child as if she was a wild animal. He kneeled in front of her and carefully inspected her for any bombs, or microphones, or anything suspicious. Keeping out a bored sigh, he found nothing.

A whimper was heard close by. There was a woman with short braids laying on her stomach by the swings. She slowly dragged herself towards Five but her eyes were on the little girl. A trail of blood followed.

The braided woman gave up halfway. Her brown eyes just stared wide as she reached her hand towards the little girl's tiny hand. She could only get a hold of her pinky.

Five kept himself frozen and in a rare instance, he was unsure of what to do. The little girl was just innocently giggly and poking Five's domino mask, completely oblivious of all that was happening around her.

Gunshots startled the braided woman and she tightened her grip on the little girl's finger.

A masked man came storming in and a bullet caught Five's right leg. With warm blood running down his calf, he quickly disappeared into thin air.

He reappeared behind the gunman and knocked him out with a vase that was probably ancient. The braided woman looked at Five with a stunned look as he warped back to them.

Without much explanation, Five helped the braided woman into the wagon with the little girl. He took off his jacket and plugged the lady's stomach wound with it before pulling the wagon through the employee's area. He limped onto the elevator and they made their way to the first level. As the doors open, water spilled through.

They were met with a flooded floor of swimming fish and decorative seaweed. Gunmen were floating face down in the water. The hostages had already made their way out, leaving the Academy fighting whoever was left.

With the flood levels rising, Five pushed every button on the elevator to get away. Nothing happened. "Shit..."

The braided lady had managed to pick up her daughter and settle her on her lap. She kissed her forehead and whispered something in her ear before lifting her towards Five. Carefully, he took a hold of the child with and she rested her chubby cheeks on his shoulder.

"Go." The lady whispered, voice cracking.

"Don't be dramatic." He told the braided woman, holding back an eye roll. "We'll come back for you."

Five ran out of the elevator without a word more. The water was just below Five's knees and was only getting higher. With the heavy flood preventing any fluent movement, he struggled to run properly towards the entrance. Not to mention leg wound that burnt with an unbearable pain.

"Five!"

He still ran along but directed his attention towards the calling of his name. Allison ran, or rather, swam next to him.

"Pass her to me! You're hurt!"

He was ready to say no for his own pride. But he was holding a child, not a soccer ball. He was trying to save a life, not score a goal.

Five nodded and passed the giggling child into Allison's arms.

She marched through the water but once the water reached her neck, she passed the child to Luther.

Luther cradled the child against his chest and brought her closer towards the exit. When his clothes began to feel heavy and he felt himself sinking, he gave the child to Klaus.

Klaus kept her on his shoulder and made airplane noises as he swerved around. The salty water got in his mouth and he rested the child on a floating door.

Underneath the door was Diego. Whilst holding the doorknob, he swam towards the exit which had turned into a waterfall down the stairs. His grip slipped, and the currents of the water lead the child towards a flag pole.

Ben quickly swooped in and grabbed the child before it crashed. He raised her above his head and the crowd hollered and cheered. Still, the little girl was with joyous laughter.

* * *

Five watched from a distance as the emergency responders carried the braided woman into an ambulance. The little girl was carried by one of the uniformed officers, and the police car they drove had followed the ambulance from behind.

The obnoxious flashing of cameras brought Five's attention back to the crowd in front of him. They whistled and screamed words of support. At one point, they all chanted Ben's number as they saw him save the little girl. The rest of his siblings, cold and soaked by the flood, rolled their eyes when his face reddened at the praise.

However, there were a pair of twins sharing the love and ogling their eyes in the front row, waving signs that said: " _Will you marry me, Number Five?!_ " The neon marker they used was being washed out like running mascara due to the pouring rain that greeted the city. Five scrunched his nose and blocked the girls from his line of vision by tilting his umbrella slightly to the right.

Five could still feel his wound soaking blood through the fabric of his sock. If any of the members of the Umbrella Academy got injured during combat, they had to hide it during press conferences in order to remain a respectable reputation.

As Sir Reginald's answered questions from the press, Klaus leaned closer to Five.

"Uh, Five?" Klaus mumbled. Without even looking at him, Five could tell he was wearing a goofy grin.

"Yeah, I see the twins, shut up." 

"No, that's not—" Klaus shook his head and rubbed eyes with his palms. "I'm not the only one who sees Number Seven chasing an ambulance with a bedsheet over her head, right?"

Five looked at Klaus like he was stupid. But Klaus' usual childish smirk was nonexistent and instead, an expression of confusion replaced it. Five slowly turned his head towards the direction Klaus was pointing. He was half expecting Klaus to punch him on the arm and exclaim "made you look!" But that was not the case this time.

"Oh." Five muttered quietly.

And there Number Seven was, chasing after an ambulance with a bedsheet over her head.

"Oh, shit." Five and Klaus muttered at the same time as they witnessed Vanya slip and tumble down roughly into a puddle.

"Cover for me." Said Five without much thinking.

"Wait, what—"

Klaus had not the time to finish his sentence as Five left his spot. The twins nearly fainted and the crowd cheered even louder, in total awe of witnessing such extraordinary abilities with their own eyes. They turned their heads in search of the young boy, but it seemed the boy just disappeared completely.

* * *

Five pulled Vanya into an alleyway nearby and shared his umbrella with her. He pulled the blanket sheet off her head, revealing saddened doe eyes. Her lips were pouted and quivering nonstop.

When Five hadn't said anything, perhaps too confused or overwhelmed by the sight, Vanya bowed her head in shame and her bangs covered her appearance.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was shaky and barely audible. "We worked so hard colouring and writing, and I just ruined it."

Five hadn't known what she was talking about until he noticed she was hugging their book tightly. No matter her best efforts of keeping it dry, the rain had dampened the pages, making it difficult to read.

"It's fine. I doubt the old man will notice."

Vanya darted her eyes back up at Five's uncharacteristically soft voice. He carried on, "I'm not even sure he's even capable of seeing. He wears glasses."

Vanya chuckled at that.

He pointed at the yarn keeping the pages together. "I like what you did here. I don't think any of us thought of doing that."

"Oh, It was simple. I could teach you guys sometime if you'd like?"

"I'm not opposed to the idea. We'll just have to find time."

When Vanya's eyes brightened and her smile had depended on her dimples, Five went on with more pressing matters,

"You made it out of the house. Did Pogo not see you?"

Vanya looked off to the side. "He did but I don't think he knows where I've gone."

"Why were you chasing an ambulance?"

At Five's question, she gulped down her saliva as if to mimic swallowing the pills that Sir Reginald's made her take.

She answered, "The old man was being taken away. I think we should find him before it's too late."

* * *

The crowd was still cheering at Five's magic trick while the rest of the Umbrella Academy was tense with concern and uncertainty. Sir Reginald's kept a straight face but If it weren't for the audience, his ears would be releasing hot steam and his head would be fuming with bright flames.

Luther, through a forced and toothy smile, shifted closer to Diego. "Where in the _heck_ did Five go?!"

"How the _fuck_ should I know?" Diego snapped back quickly, happily waving at the crowd. "You're Nuh-Number One. You're supposed to be keeping tabs on your people."

"And you're Number Two. If I'm not keeping tabs, you should be." Retorted Luther.

Diego's fake smile dropped and he grumbled. It returned when a photographer requested they take a picture for the local newspaper. The siblings huddled closer together when the photographer gestured them to squeeze into the frame. All but Diego and Klaus closed their Umbrella. The kids shared shelter and wrapped their arms around each other for the picture.

"Guys," Klaus had spoken up through the side of his mouth. The Hargreeves children kept themselves facing the camera but their eyes darted towards Klaus. He continued, "I know where Five is. He's with Seven."

"At home?" The flash of light had Ben blink rapidly. "Oh, I think my eyes were closed at that time, can we do that again?"

The photographer thinned his lips in dissatisfaction at Ben's request. They wore masks that shielded their eyes but the photographer didn't care to mention that and just decide to try to take the photo again.

"No, not at home." Said Klaus. "We saw Seven running over there by the sidewalk, with a bed sheet covering her head like a creepy nun." he then added on in a hushed tone. "I think she's gone mad."

"That doesn't sound right. Are you sure that it wasn't just a ghost?" Asked Luther, wary of his brother's story.

"Yes, I'm sure!" He insisted before blinded with another flash of light. The picture taken had Klaus' mouth wide opened. The photographer sighed and steadied the camera once more.

"Ghosts usually have like, a missing eyeball, or limb, or something." Explained Klaus through his strained smile. "And that's definitely not what I saw."

"Okay, but—" Allison had begun.

Another picture was taken but Allison's mouth was opened this time. The photographer shook his head and told the children to try and stay still. They nodded.

Allison continued, "But why would Seven be running around outside wearing a bedsheet?"

"And how did she manage to leave the house without Pogo stuh-stuh-stopping her?" Mentioned Diego.

"Hell if I know!" Klaus answered unhelpfully. "I just know that Five told me to cover for him which is INSANE 'cause he never, ever asks for favours."

That was the first statement of Klaus' that his siblings saw truth in. The rarest moments were when Five put aside his ego and pride and allowed himself to be picked up by a helping hand. Wherever he was and whatever he was doing must be too important to be done without help.

"Fine. We'll cover for him." Luther concluded.

The camera clicked with a picture yet again, but the kids had their head whipped towards Luther, awaiting a punchline of some sort. There wasn't one. He was being serious.

The photographer threw his head back in frustration before leaving the kids without a proper photo.

"And how do you pr-propose we do that then?" Diego questioned Luther as if a challenge.

Another photographer made their way towards the kids, instructing them on how to pose. Sir Reginald eyed the kids with a glare fuelled by a fiery annoyance and tapped his foot impatiently.

"Just smile for the camera." Said Luther, wrapping his long arms around his siblings tighter. "And keep blinking."

* * *

Five and Vanya ran, and ran, and ran, yet the sound of the blaring sirens still sounded so far. Five had let go of his umbrella when he found it was just pulling him back and his mask was kept in his breast pocket.

When Vanya's breath grew heavy and her pace slowed down, Five grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. When Five's limp worsened, he tumbled on to the ground and Vanya held his arm over her shoulder. She directed him towards a bus bench despite his arguments of denial. She kneeled in front of him and unrolled his sock to examine the gunshot wound.

Vanya tried her best not to wince at the gruesome hole gaping through his skin. It painted red and thick streams down his leg and showed no signs of stopping.

"I think we really are going to need an ambulance now..." She said quietly with a frown.

"Then we should keep running." Five was quick to stand back up but once he did, his right leg went limp and Vanya had to stand and hold her arms out to catch him. Five tried to wiggle his way out of her embrace, embarrassed to be using her as a crutch.

Vanya forcefully turned him around so that they were face-to-face. Rather than Vanya's usual worried appearance of shifty pupils hiding behind her hair, she was looking at him with steady eyes.

Five was not one for giving up on a mission but as Vanya slowly shook her head at him, his scrunched nose softened, as well as his wrinkled forehead. He breathed out sharply through his nose before slouching back on the bench. Vanya joined him, resting the soggy book on her lap.

The two were quiet for a while, the sirens no longer hear in the far distance. It was nonexistent at this point. They watched as cars passed by. Some nearly splashed puddles on to them but if they had fallen victim to the waves of water, it wouldn't matter. Five had just been in a flood and the pouring rain kept Vanya's hair flat.

Suddenly, she slapped the book against her face and let out a quiet screech.

"I'm sorry for the sudden outburst but I just can not stop thinking of how mad Pogo might be right now!" Her voice was muffled by the book. "What am I going to tell him when I come back?"

Five shrugged and mumbled, "You were going for a jog? It's technically not a lie."

She considered it for a moment before sighing loudly. "That won't work. I should have just stayed home. I've caused too much trouble today."

Another beat of silent passed by, though rather than watching the roads Five had been focused on his sulking sister who kept the book resting on her face. Her usual straight posture that father was so strict on, was demolished as she slid down the bench in complete defeat. Her straight and silky hair was full of tangles, and her clothing was covered in sticky, brown mud. A rather unfortunate image to stare at but something was intriguing about it all.

"How long has it been since you've gone this far from home, anyway?" Wondered Five, genuinely curious.

"I can't say I've ever gone this far." She answered honestly.

"Well, despite the circumstances, it's good to see you out of the house."

An earnest smile emerged from her lips and he returned one back. It had disappeared not long after, as his vision went hazy and his head began to feel lighter. Vanya hadn't noticed his wonky state, as she thought deeply to herself for a second. She asked, "Do you think the old man will be okay? He looked very sick when they took him away."

"Maybe it's just a fever." He offered, words slightly slurred.

"And if it's not?"

"He's not going to die if that's what you're implying. He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye." 

"But-- but what if he doesn't wake up for a while? How will we know what happens next in the story?"

Five, eyebrows shifted downwards, rapidly tapped his finger against his arm. His good leg bounced and he bit at the corner of his lip. His fidgety state indicated that he had been formulating a plan in his head and Vanya awaited for the light bulb to shine above his head

As if a switch was pulled, Five's excessive movements stopped, and he sat straight. "Then we make it up." He concluded firmly.

"Make it up?" 

"Yeah like, create something new. Something simple."

When Vanya fell silent, Five went on to help her like what the old man had done for him when he had trouble coming up with a name for the kingdom name, "I'll start, and you can jump in whenever you'd like."

Truthfully disinterested in creating a story on his own, Five was desperate for a distraction from the worry side effects of his gunshot wound. His body had felt like it had gone completely numb, and at the same time, it burned— as if his skin was being dragged across rough carpet.

"So, um..." Five was slow to start, unsure of how to do so. It seemed the old man's job was harder than he thought. He cleared his throat and fixed his eyes to the puddle beneath his feet. His reflections stared back at him. He went on, "The travellers had just made it out of the wintery biome and— and they were making their way towards the castle of cards. In the sky, the witches cackled as they played around the vibrant orange moon. Their features were ugly and grotesque—"

"Skin green and covered in boils." Vanya suddenly added and Five chuckled.

"Despite their ugly appearance," Five continued a little more confident, "The travellers marched on forward...."

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

_There were two long bridges that went over a foggy and bottomless cliff. Between the bridges was a wooden sign. In white ink, it read, "The Bridge to Freedom and the Bridge to Death"._

_Which one was which was unclear, they both looked similar._

_On the other side laid the great and giant doors of the castle. What laid inside may be what the travellers seek however there was a guard for each bridge, blocking the entrance with tall spears. Their bodies were square, like a card but their heads, arms, and legs were human-like._

_"Oh, I know of these goons." Said the Stone Knight with a terrible taste in her mouth. "They use to guard the Moon Kings castle, though they were pretty terrible at it."_

_"Yes, I've encountered them as well a plenty." Said the Curious Prince, remembering the distinct feature of their sharp noses and thick eyebrows. He went on, "One of them always lies, while the other is always truthful."_

_"Who tells the truth? The right or left guard?" The Fishless Fisherman questioned._

_The Curious Prince was uncertain. "I'm not sure. The guards look identical like the bridges they stand by."_

_"Well, that's troubling." Said the Cold Pirate. "One bridge leads to death while the other leads to freedom. We can't just randomly choose a path, we have to ask the guards which path we have to take."_

_"But we must be careful of what we ask. That is crucial." Warned the Caged Owl._

_The travellers nodded in agreement and approached the left guard first._

_"Greetings!" Said the Curious Prince, waving his hand elegantly. The guard did not even bat an eye at the odd-looking children and continued staring off with his neck stiff._

_"We travel all the way from the Something Simple Kingdom." Explained the Curious Prince. "If its no bother, may we ask a question?"_

_"You already have, but go on." The Left Guard's voice was low and raspy, making the Blind Puppet shiver in fear._

_The Curious Prince went on with his question. "If I were to ask the other guard which bridge leads to death, what would he say?"_

_"He would say that his bridge would lead to Death. It is an idle way to die if you choose his path." Said the Left Guard._

_"Thank you for your time." The Curious Prince nodded. The travellers went on to greet the guard on the right._

_"What bridge leads to death?" Asked the Curious Prince._

_"The other bridge leads to death while mine will lead to Freedom. You will gain entrance to the castle If you wish to pass my bridge."_

_Though the Right Guard's appearance was much similar to the Left Guard, his voice was high-pitched and without much control. The travellers were ready to take the other bridge to avoid the ringing in their ears. However, the Curious Prince had a prideful smirk on his face_

_"I see you are the truthful one." The Curious Prince concluded. "We will take your bridge and venture into the castle!"_

_The Right Guard lifted his spear. "As you wish!"_

_The travellers took a hesitant step forward but the Curious Prince chose to run._

_Soon, he would get his Caged Owl's Key to Freedom..._

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

Vanya had felt Five's head drop on her shoulder like he usually did when they finished reading a page. Usually she would hear soft snoring and drool would drop from the corner of his mouth. But as Vanya looked over she saw his eyes droopy and his chest puff, then deflate slowly as he took laboured breaths.

"Five...?" She whispered, shaking his shoulders gently.

His lips parted but the words were stuck in his mouth. Black splotches invaded his vision. The sound of his sister's voice faded. The tapping of rain against the pavement ground was muffled. A moving blob had stopped beside them— a large vehicle of some kind. It let out a sharp _hiss_ before it's doors opened.

Five's eyes closed as he was carried away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bridge scenario was taken from a riddle named "The Door to Freedom" and even tho I was given the answer it took me ten minutes trying to figure out why it was the answer in the first place


	10. Every Story has an Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular chapter was inspired by the song "Kaleidoscope" by a Great Big World.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading the last chapter, It's been a ride.

Five woke up to an unfamiliar scene. Instead of the blaring of his morning alarm, the beeping of a monitor sat beside his ear. The morning sun spilling through his bedroom windows was replaced by the yellowish hue of streetlights. The skies were still dark but a few stars shined brightly, along with the round moon that hung frozen with an enchanting vibrancy.

Unlike the captivating sights showcased outside, the dim room Five stayed in was rather dull. A muted blue painted the walls and plastic flowers rested beside him. There was a single sofa chair in the corner, a plush and a square pillow to go along with it.

A calming silence set in the dim room and was accompanied by the slow and timid ticking of the wall clock. Five's eyes followed the second hand as it passed twelve. It was now four o'clock AM.

Five removed the thin sheet of blanket that hid his legs. Wrapped around his right calf was a bandage. Also new to his attire were loose pants and a hospital gown designed with a polka-dot pattern.

The unfamiliarity of everything should have pushed him to make a quick escape. But there he was taking his time staring at a stock photo of a red bird— a cardinal— that hung on the wall across from him. The bird sat on a branch and behind it, the clear skies. A rather simple image but it still kept Five's attention for longer than a few seconds.

He gently slipped off the bed and landed on his good leg. There was something square peeking from under his pillow. He gently tugged it out and held it close to his chest once seeing it was the story he created with his siblings. It had dried from the rain but the ink of the pen was smudged, as well as the colouring.

Ignoring the crutch leaning on the wall beside him, Five limped his way towards the exit of the room.

He was greeted with a dark and isolated hallway. The only lights that were kept on were at the end of the hall where the elevator was. Despite the disturbance he may cause, he warped across the hallway and pressed the button to request an elevator.

He found a receptionist counter nearby. There was a large binder beside a computer, a thick layer of dust blanketing the hard drive. Sipping a half-empty cup of coffee that was sitting idly beside a potted sunflower, he quickly flipped through the binder pages, finding a list of names all in alphabetical order with a room number beside.

Five slowed down once getting to all the names beginning with letter C. In this particular section, there was only one individual with a last name beginning with a K— the old man's initials. He was located in room 119D.

* * *

Room 119D had been locked. No matter; he teleported inside anyway and was met with a hospital room similar to his own, though there were two beds that were occupied instead of the single one he had. The individual in the bed to the left had tubes going through his nose and mouth. He was breathing heavily in his sleep, sounding horribly in pain. Though he was old, he was not as old as the old man Five was searching for.

Five walked over to the bed on the far right and found him lying down with his droopy eyes opened. His eyes stared through the crack between the curtains of the window. He was probably admiring the distracting sight of the moon as well.

Much like the individual sleeping on the bed next to him, tubes stuck along his nose. There was one plugged into his wrist as well.

The old man's eyes, no longer as bright as it used to be, shifted towards Five who stood by the foot of the bed. They looked at one another for a moment without a single word uttered.

"I'd say it's good to see you," the old man began in a lower voice than Five was used to, "but given the circumstances of both our situations, I don't believe it would be appropriate."

The old man, frowning, was eying the bandaged wrapped around Fives leg.

"This is nothing." Said Five, voice croaky.

"It doesn't look like nothing, little man. Come, sit." He patted on the empty spot beside him and Five leaned against it with his good leg crossed under his injured leg that dangled off the bed. Still, the old man's concerned eyes were focused on it.

"Why did the ambulance take you?" Five asked, changing the subject.

The old man fell silent. A sheepish smile was put on. "I wasn't feeling too well. I thought my time was up, so I called them to pick me up." 

Suddenly looking for something to do, Five pinched at the fabric of his sleeve. It was paper-thin and too loose for his bony wrists. "What do you mean you thought your time was up?" He asked.

"Meaning I'd have to move on from this life to another. A life where I'd see my family again." Answered the old man.

"So you're dying." There was another pause as the old man remained silent, though it was a loud enough confirmation for Five's suspicion.

Death was mundane. It was natural. Five had snapped the necks of countless individuals and encountered twice as many dead bodies lying in a pool of their own blood. Moments before these unfortunate souls met their demise, their eyes have already gone cold and frozen. Sometimes they screamed and pleaded for mercy. Sometimes they simply have nothing to say, trying to pinpoint where exactly they went wrong between the five seconds they were up on their feet, to when they had fallen on to the ground with a child hovering over them with a cunning grin.

Death was nothing new to Five. Perhaps it was all too familiar. Yet, no matter all the blood he has seen spilt or the hearts plunged with sharp knives, Five found himself fidgeting without ease at the simple sight of an old man laying still on a hospital bed.

Death was inevitable. Death was everywhere. Why did this feel so different?

The old man had followed Five's gaze, which was fixed on the storybook in his lap. "May I see what you have there?"

"It's barely readable. Our dad hid the original copy so we had to make a new one. It got wet in the rain." He handed the story over hesitantly and watched as the old man flipped through the pages. 

The pages consisted mostly of colourful blobs merging together. At least one word per page could be read properly, but most were squiggly and awkward. When he got to the end, he was blinking slowly, taking longer for his eyelids to lift back up. It was if he struggled to keep awake.  

"Well, I think it's perfect." Complimented the old man, sounding all too sincere and kind. The old man handed the book back to Five with his shaky grip. 

"You haven't told us the ending of the story yet." Five reminded him.

"I don't think you need me to finish telling the story when you have enough of an imagination to create something like this." 

Five didn't necessarily disagree, having to collaborate with Vanya at the bus stop. That was the last he remembered right before he apparently knocked out. He wondered about Vanya, and if she ever returned home safely. "I'd like to hear your version anyway." 

"Oh, I doubt it will be as good as yours."

"That's fine."

"Well, I haven't gotten much sleep so the gears in my head are not turning properly. Perhaps we both should get some rest first, and I'll tell you the ending in the morning?"

"No, I want to hear it now."

"I'm not even sure if I remember it by heart—"

"I don't care, I want to hear it now." Five demanded, sharply darting his eyes at the old man. His forehead wrinkled in unwarranted anger, and he wore a thin-lipped frown. There was a tiny glint of both confusion and sadness in his oval eyes. "I want to hear it now because If you close your eyes and end up sleeping forever, my siblings and I will have to go back to growing up."

Five has seen death everywhere— sometimes even caused it. But never has he said goodbye.

"I thought I wanted to grow up but I was wrong. There is nothing fun about growing up. We're not allowed to paint pictures, or dress in stupid costumes, or drink tangy orange juice out of stupid little teacups, or throw airplanes around--"

"Five—"

"Please, just stay awake a little longer." His speech quickened nervously. "I don't— I can't let go of being a kid yet. I can't say goodbye so soon. Are you leaving because of something we did? Was it because we were mean and called you a crab? Or was it because we spilled paint on your carpet? We'll say sorry if that's the case— though it most mostly Four's fault. He'll also give the feather boa back if that's what you're upset about—"

"Five, buddy, take a breath." He smoothed his hand against the young boys back. "I'm not upset at you kids. You kids have been nothing but a delight from beginning to end. It's just my time to go. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner but I'm sure you will be able to have fun even when I'm gone, and even when you're grown."

"I doubt that."

"I'm grown yet I've still had fun, right?" He chuckled. "Yes, being a kid is certainly a joyous time but growing up is apart of the experience as well. The problem is forgetting."

When the boy kept quiet, hiding his confusion of the olds man's words, he continued,

"You see, grown-ups sometimes forget what it means to be a child. They think being a child is to be naive, so they force themselves to grow up faster. But what makes a child is so much more than just naivety. You, children, are always so curious, so hopeful, and imaginative, and courageous, and loving, and full of dreams and freedom. To forget your childhood is to allow all these wondrous virtues to fade. And oh, what a colourless world you'd live in."

"But—" The ticking of the clock filled the silence in the room before Five was able to continue in an unsteady voice. "But what about the kids who aren't allowed to be kids? The kids who don't have a childhood, to begin with? Kids like me, like my siblings?"

He made it sound like he was challenging the old man, though he also seemed desperate for an answer. The old man didn't provide him with one as he just remained silent with a sympathetic frown that Five hated. He was ready to stomp away, ready to rip apart whatever was left of their shitty little book.

The old man spoke up, "I'm sorry, Five." But it had not been what Five was expecting. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, kids. Your father is making a terrible mistake doing what he's doing to you, children. I just hope you remember the fun you had rather than the pain you endure in that house of yours. Remember what it means to be a kid and carry it with you when you're grown. You do know what it means to be a kid, correct?"

Five looked off to the side and shrugged.

"Don't be so modest. You're a smart kid, I know you know." 

Truth be told, Five was not quite sure of what the answer was to his question. There was no logic involved, or an equation to calculate, or a race to be won. But despite it— despite its unfamiliarity, Five said with confidence, "Of course I know."

The old man cracked a pleased smile, so sincere, so pure, so caring, so far from the one they called Father.

"I think I see the sun rising." The old man pointed out. There was an orange hue peeking through the curtains.

Five slid off the bed to pull the curtains back and get a better view of the purple and blue sky. The sun was shining a vibrant orange as it emerged slowly from the horizon. The reflection of the moon was still high in the sky, and it appeared orange as well. Taking time to admire the scenery, Five was not quite sure why the Curious Prince wanted to turn the moon back to its original colour of a blank white. Orange suited it perfectly.

He sat back on the bed, eyes still focused out the window. Again, a peaceful silence laid a layer in the hospital room. It was so rare to find these moments of the mundane.

Five was brought out of his daze as the old man suppressed a cough in his fist that sounded gravely and painful. He was no longer looking out the window— if he even was to begin with. The painting outside was serving as a distraction, like giving a baby with a rattle. But instead of a parent trying to get some work done, the old man was keeping Five's attention away from his heavy breathing and the slow fall of his eyelids. Still, his kind smile was kept even as he let out raspy breaths. 

"Aren't you scared?" Asked Five.

"Scared of what?" 

"Scared of dying?" 

There was a pause before he answered.

"I am." 

Five eyes largened at his morbid truth, but quickly he hid his shock. He adjusted his seating uncomfortably, not quite sure what to say next.

"You'll see your family again, I'm sure." He provided with a weak shrug.

The old man chuckled maintaining his joyous expression, his dimples deepen but his eyes were glassy. Seemingly, he was oblivious to the fact there was a visible tear that rolled down his wrinkled cheek and soaked his pillow.

"Yes, I do hope so." 

Five lowered his head down, his gaze scattering everywhere but refused to meet the old man. His lips were pressed together tightly, and he blinked his eyes rapidly.

The old man had given joy to Five, it was only fair he did the same.

"I'll leave you to sleep now." He hopped back on his good foot, leaving the old man's side and limped slowly towards the door. "I'll tell my siblings you said goodbye."

The elder acknowledged his wishes with a quiet yet delighted hum. 

Five's hand rested on the doorknob for a while, unwilling to twist it opened. His lips twisted in hesitation. He spoke lowly, "...Thanks for sharing your story with us." 

He refused to turn to look at his reaction but judging by the soothingly beat of his calm tone, the old man was still smiling,

"Thank you for continuing it." 

* * *

Five was back home in three days' time.

He was first greeted by Pogo and Vanya who awaited him by the entrance. Sir Reginald was unaware of her running away from home, but Pogo gave her the punishment of more house chores. They were both silently aware It was more of an upgrade than a downgrade to her uneventful everyday routine.

Five, returning to his bedroom, was met with Halloween chocolate and a hand-drawn portrait placed on his nightstand. He only guessed it was him that was depicted in the drawing because of the huge letters that spelt "FIVE" on the top of the page. Despite the ugly colour choices and the poor autonomy (his eyes were drawn too close together and his nose was way too wide), he stuck it on his wall where he kept all his other drawings.

He heard a creak by his door. There, he saw his siblings peeking their heads inside. They quickly scattered out of the area once caught by his eyes.

* * *

The day went on as usual. They had class with Pogo, then physical training with Sir Reginald's. Despite just coming back from the hospital, Five was still expected to participate in his individual training. It was predicted to be a more intense session due to his absence, and the fact he had randomly disappeared during a press conference. That, and the unwanted hospital bill mailed to the front door.

Sir Reginald's could definitely afford it but he would have rather had Five treated and analyzed at home. If only that nosy bus driver hadn't stopped his vehicle, perhaps more testing could have been accomplished.

Five was to meet Sir Reginald's by their usual spot at the bottom of the staircase. However, catching his siblings crowding around Graces' changing station, his route was redirected.

Five stood by Ben who was sitting cross-legged beside Klaus, who was resting his chin on Ben's head. Next to him was Allison who was teaching Luther how to braid, using Vanya's hair as a subject. Diego, holding a toolbox in his lap, sat by Pogo who was adjusting the last of Grace's wires.

Every few minutes someone would ask "are you done yet?" and Pogo's response would always be "not quite." That was until Grace's lips began to move and her speech began to buffer and differ in frequency. Literal sparks flew from Grace's exposed arm, along with steam that reached the ceilings. And as if triggered by a switch, she returned back to her motionless state

"Oh, my God. Did she just die again?!" Klaus cried and the children began to panic.

Pogo told them to calm down though he appeared unsure of himself.

Grace's blue eyes would flutter open only seconds later.

The children stared at her unsure if she was actually active. Once her red lips formed a smirk, they jumped into her arms and welcomed her back wholeheartedly.

* * *

Five stretched his arms over his chest as Sir Reginald scribbled in his red notebook like usual.

_Number five....tendency of......23%.....Time Travel....._

Were the words that Five managed to catch before the book was slammed closed, nearly snapping his nose off. Five blinked rapidly and Sir Reginald spoke in a strict tone, saying his immense curiosity will only act as a burden to your performance. He scoffed at that.

When the timer went off prompting Five to begin his training, he disappeared in a blue flash of light. Unlike his previous training sessions, there had been no yelling or complaining of his siblings. Instead, the halls were quiet, eerily so.

Five had landed in the old man's attic by "accident". It was odd with it being so quiet without the record player spinning buoyant tracks.

What remained were bookshelves containing only the most adventurous books, and stuffed cute animals that scattered the floors. There was the whimsical and quite lively painting of a forest that surrounded the walls. And who could forget the flower-shaped tea table?

The only space not occupied with anything colourful was the door leading downstairs. It was a blank canvas, ready to be met with the colourful strokes of paint.

There was something shuffling in the treasure chest of costumes. Five dug through it cautiously, only to let out a chuckle once finding the source.

* * *

The Hargreeves children hung out in their attic, as the sun descends behind the lopsided house.

They all crowded the corner and had not looked suspicious at all.

"You do realize, nothing good will come out of this right?" Said Luther, scratching at the back of his neck. "At some point, dad is going to notice."

"He's not going to notice unless someone t-t-tells him." Sneered Diego with an accusative tone.

"That and the coat of cat fur on our uniform." Added Allison, dusting off her skirt.

Tigger, the cat, had joined the Academy and they deemed her Number Eight. Confused they were by Five randomly stealing the feline from the old man, but once he sat his siblings down and explained what had happened at the hospital, the room went into a tense silence. Even Luther and Vanya, having not met the individual they all raved about, were left uneasy by the news.

With no one to take care of her, they decided to keep Tigger. However, it was only during the night, then they would bring her back home to the lopsided house during day time as a way to prevent Sir Reginald's from catching her.

With the cat placed in Ben's lap, they sat around in a circle and coloured pages of what would be a new, new version of the old man's storybook. A sort of tribute, they claimed.

"Did the old man ever tell you what happens at the end?"

Everyone paused and looked at Five when Vanya had asked her question. They were disappointed to see him shake his head.

"He didn't." Answered Five honestly. He bit at his pencil before adding on, "But I think I know what happens next anyway..."

 

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

_The travellers crossed the Bridge of Freedom and into the card castle of which the witches surrounded._

_They were greeted with very high ceilings that seemed to have no end. A spiralling staircase sat in the middle of the empty space, and the travellers ran to the very top._

_One would think that they would become dizzy from how much they have turned the corners climbing up the stairs, but they were too distracted by the wondrous patterns that surrounded them the higher they reached. Violets and purples, diamonds and circles. It was almost as if they were inside a kaleidoscope._

_On the top, they found themselves in a transparent dome where they could admire the night skies. A giant treasure chest stood on a high platform. The witches flew by on their crooked broom and dropped items into the chest._

_As the Curious Prince took a step closer, a booming voice emerged from the treasure chest._

_"And what might you gremlins want?!" It spoke and the grounds shook with its thunderous tone._

_The traveller's legs buckled in fear but still, they puffed their chest and stepped closer to the talking treasure chest._

_"We're no gremlins! We're here to retrieve our items that the witches have stolen!" Spoke the Curious Prince._

_"Stolen items?!" Scoffed the giant treasure chest. "I know of no such thing!"_

_As he said this, a witch flew past him and dropped a very familiar fishing rod into his mouth._

_"Why, that's my fishing rod!" Accused the Fishless Fisherman now fuming with rage._

_The treasure chest was suddenly quiet. "Oh? But it can't be. I trust my witches to feed me with only useless junk."_

_"Well, perhaps you should consider rehiring." The Curious Prince folded his arms. "They have stolen my Father's golden staff and my Caged Owl's Key of Freedom."_

_"And my Ruby of Hope." Said the Stone Knight._

_"And my Hat of Imagination." Said the Colourless Clown._

_"And my Eye of Courage." Said the Blind Puppet._

_"And my Parrot of Love." Said the Cold Pirate._

_"...And my Fishing Rod." Said the Fishless Fisherman_

_"Your fishing rod of what?" Questioned the treasure chest._

_"Of nothing." The Fishless Fisherman shrugged. "It's just a fishing rod."_

_Despite the lack of meaning the fishing rod carried, the treasure chest let out a sympathetic sigh and allowed his mouth to open wide. Magically all the items the travellers asked for emerged from the chest and gently floated towards their owns._

_"I am deeply sorry, these witches keep stealing things that don't belong to them! I urge you to keep them close to your heart, for though they are special, they can fade as you grow. They are truly rare things to find these days, perhaps that's why the witches stole them."_

_The kids smiled and thanked the treasure chest for his kindness, The Stone Knight received her Ruby and attached it back to her sword. The Colourless Clown put his Jester hat back on. The Blind Puppet attached his button eye back. The Cold Pirate allowed his parrot to rest on his shoulder. The Fishless Fisherman kept his fishing rod behind his back. Yet, even with their items back in their possession, they remained the same individuals they were in the beginning of their adventure._

_"Young boy, it seems I don't have what you seek." Said the treasure chest to the Curious Prince, disappointment heard in his tone._

_The Curious Prince shared a sad look with his Caged Owl._

_"Then how will my Owl be free?" The Curious Prince wondered._

_The treasure chest had no answer to his question leaving the Curious Prince without hope._

_The Stone Knight placed a caring hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps she was always capable of being free? She just needed a little help."_

_The Curious Prince looked at his new friends and they all wore smiles, despite them remaining Stone, or Colourless, or Cold, or Blind._

_All took a hold of the cage. On the count of three, they pulled, and pulled, until the sticks stretched out and snapped. The Caged Owl flapped her large and wondrous wings, finally free._

_For what seemed to be the first time ever, the owl was happy._

_"It seems I never needed a key to be free." Spoke the Free Bird, still flying in the skies. She looked down at the Stone Knight and said, "Nor did you need a ruby to be hopeful."_

_The Stone Knight suddenly began to crack, and the layer of rock that covered her was peeled off. Now she was without restriction, bending her loose joints freely._

_"And the Colourless Clown did not need his hat to be imaginative." Said, Hopeful Knight._

_The grey that the Colourless Clown was covered in had melted into a puddle. What took its place was the brightest of colours known to mankind._

_"And the Blind Puppet had not needed his eye to be courageous." Said the Imaginative Clown._

_The Blind Puppet had blinked and his vision had become clear. He jumped off the Imaginative Clown's shoulder and stood on his own without fear._

_"And the Cold Pirate had not needed his Parrot to know what love is." Said the Courageous Puppet._

_The ice covering the Cold Pirate had melted and no longer did his teeth chatter. Unlike the other travellers who wore smiles of delight, he was rather confused._

_"So, we went through all this trouble just to discover It was not the items who defined us?" Wondered the Loving Pirate. "Then what was the point of all this travelling?"_

_"Perhaps it's wasn't the destination that was the point, but how we got there and the friends we made along the way. "Said the Dreaming Fisherman. "I have lost nothing yet through this adventure, I have gained the gift of what it is like to dream of anything other than catching fish."_

_"And even though it was my hope to grow up by participating in this adventure," Said the Curious Prince, "I have learned how to be a kid."_

_The kids huddled together in their new forms and looked off to the sky. The moon had now turned a vibrant orange but no destruction for harm was done as they expected. It was just orange._

_"I quite like the moon like that." Admitted the Curious Prince. "Can we keep it like that for a bit longer?"_

_The Free Owl nodded. "I don't see why not?"_

_So they did, just for a little while. Because if they left to go their separate ways, they may never see each other again. But if that was the case, they would have the memory of their adventure safely stored in their heads. Too precious were these moments to forget for they may be the most joyous times of their lives_

_And indeed, they would remember these joyous moments even as they are grown._

 

 

 

 ***  
** *  
*

 

 

 

Night had fallen and the children had gotten into their nightwear and into their rooms.

Grace made her rounds, starting with Number One. He had surprised her when she found him not yet in bed and instead seated by his window ledge, staring out to the stars. Luther didn't seem to notice her walk in, as he just seemed completely entranced in the world beyond the one they lived in.

Grace went on to Number Two's room but hadn't found him anywhere, nor under his covers. Instead, she found him in Number Three's room. The siblings sat beside each other on her bed looking through a flashy magazine. Judging by Diego's scrunched up face and cocked head, he wasn't impressed by the neon pink skirts or the ripped jeans all these shiny-haired celebrities were wearing.

Nonetheless, Allison babbled on about her high hopes of travelling to Hollywood and become an actress one day, which had Diego burst out laughing, and he was met with a pillow slapped across his face.

Once calming down, he mumbled words of encouragement to follow her dreams on the condition she would still help fight crime on her days off. Surprised by his support, Allison wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and he did the same with her.

Grace visited Number Four next and he was busy drawing on his walls with broken crayons of all sorts of shades. Though against the rules, Grace stood by for a while admiring the scenery he created. There had been a purple sunset descending in the corner of the wall, along with a rainbow that wore a top hat and circle eyes. A tea table sat in the middle of a dessert and vampires sunk their fangs into chocolate cake. The image was difficult to process, despite the many updates Grace went through, yet she could tell it was beautiful.

When Grace could not find Five in his own room she went on to Number Six's, and unlike the rest of the children, he was tucked under his blanket. He had fallen asleep even without Grace keeping by his side to protect him from the monsters he claimed his under his bed. Proudly, she smiled at him and flicked the lights off. It seemed while she was gone, Ben had gotten much more courageous.

The last room was Number Seven's but Five exited the room before Grace could enter. He looked up at his Mother and she greeted him with that smile he would never admit to missing. Stoic in his expression, it seemed he had not partially cared she had returned. No matter; Grace was unfazed. He was a bright, young boy who should be focusing on his skill rather than the loss of his mother.

A sudden hug around her hips had taken her aback. Looking down at Five, still with his stone expression, she hugged him back wholeheartedly.

Grace entered Number Sevens' room to see she was already tucking herself into bed. She spoke about her day and the recent novel she was reading. It seemed Vanya was the only child who hadn't changed when Grace was gone.

She left her with a kiss on the forehead and shut the lights off. Grace returned to her charging station and stared off to the paintings that surrounded her.

Vanya's eyes remained open, keeping her gaze on the door. A few minutes later, a flash of light blinded her and there appeared Five by the foot of her bed. Her doorknob jiggled and in peeked the rest of her siblings with giant eyes of excitement and bright flashlights shining at Vanya.

"You ready?" Asked Five with a smirk.

Vanya held herself from smiling too wide. She nodded.

* * *

There stood all seven children in the old man's attic. Their heads were tilted to the right, then after a brief moment of contemplation, they slowly switched to the left. In their hands, they each carried opened paint buckets in their hands.

"I'm thinkin' we use neon green."

Everyone cringed at Klaus' suggestion.

"I think maroon would be better." Said Allison honestly.

"Me too." Agreed Five.

"Really?" Luther frowned "I was imagining a sky-blue."

Diego rolled his eyes. "That's so boring. Red is better."

"How about you, Seven?" Ben nudged at her side. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I'm okay with anything."

The children went back to silence. They tilted their heads to the left again.

Klaus sighed. "You know what, I'll just ask him."

"You could've done that a long time ago." Murmured Ben.

"I wanted to prove we were capable of doing this on our own!" Argued Klaus.

"Well, we're clearly not!" Ben snapped back.

Klaus grumbled before turning his head to the empty space behind him. "What do you think? A beautiful, gorgeous, absolutely stunning green, a hideous maroon, a boring sky-blue, or a gruesome, bloody red?"

They all rolled their eyes at Klaus.

He turned his head back to his siblings. "He says orange."

They eyed the orange paint bucket that Vanya was holding.

"Then orange it is." Nodded Five. He looked over to the empty space next to Klaus and waved. "Thanks, Charlie."

The binder by the receptionist desk at the hospital had provided the old man with an identity. His full name was Charlie King and though Five was not too big on names, addressing him by his real name rather than 'the old man' had been much easier.

"He says, anytime." Told Klaus.

Five couldn't hear nor see Charlie but he imagined he was with his usual endearing smile. His daughter and wife were probably sitting by the flower-shaped tea table silently critiquing their choice of colour.

The children dipped their hands deep into the bucket. They pressed their hand against their large canvas. Once done, they stepped back to view their masterpiece.

On the door that was once blank, the children had painted the travellers pointing at the night sky. The traveller's appearance were slightly altered to mimic their own appearance. On the foot of the door, they had placed their handprint to act as their signature.

"What does he think?" Asked Five to Klaus.

Klaus looked at the empty space beside him and suddenly he was giggling.

"He says it's perfect."

They stood proudly at the compliment, fists on their hips. Even Five, knowing full well that what they had painted was an absolute insult to any professional painting— even those who simply splatter blobs of paint across their canvas and call it a masterpiece would find offence to the door they just assaulted with their lack of artistic ability. To call such a horrifying attempt in the arts perfect, was most definitely an overstatement.

Yes, Five definitely had to work on seeing the good in all that was hideous. It may take some time. But as he looked over to his six siblings standing next him— eyes twinkling at the mess they have created together, grinning from cheek to cheek— Five could not deny there was something special about this moment. Something quite rare.

They were together. All seven of them. They were together without a mission to tackle, or a competition to win, or anything selfish to gain but the memories they'll hopefully remember. They were together because they simply wanted to be. They were together because they were family.

Family was the key, Five would come to realize. It was the key to freedom— a key out of their sheltered lives at the grim Hargreeves mansion.

To pass the gates of the academy alone, was to risk too much. But to pass the gates with each other hands in hand, would be worth all the trouble. If they got caught, then they would just escape again, and again, and again because freedom was worth discovering every time.

Maybe Five's siblings _did_ realize how awful their painting truly looked. Maybe they didn't care. Maybe they just had fun working together and the result of it had not mattered. Maybe their painting really was perfect, in its own very special way.

Or maybe Five was just thinking about all this too hard. Perhaps It was just a painting with no deeper meaning. Why make everything so complicated? They were still just naive kids, after all.

And what a wonderful thing to be.

 

 

_**THE END** _

 

  

 

_The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched. They are felt with the heart.  
_

_-The Little Prince_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chRisT AlMIghty this was such a fun yet difficult story to write. Even though I had everything planned, half the time I was like "wtf am I doiNG". I'm not a poetic person AT ALL and my dumbass thought it'd be a good idea to write a 40k+ fan fic just fuckin drenched in symbolism. bUT hEy, we love a challenge. I just hope I look back at this and be like, "huh, that wasn't half bad" 
> 
> I appreciate you guys sticking from beginning to end. Thanks for sitting through all my typos (there were a lot and I'm still tryna get them all cleaned up WOOPS) The kudos and comments overwhelmed me— but in a good way! It put a lil cheesy smile on my face every time I read your messages. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed!!! :)


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